


Ozai Dies In This One

by CabbageHead



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula gets good parents, Cabbage Man did Not Deserve This, I hate Ozai, Ozai Gets What He Deserves, The wildlife hates Ozai, Ursa is a good mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabbageHead/pseuds/CabbageHead
Summary: Ozai makes a ~mistake~ and has to redeem himself to Fire Lord Azulon.  Hijinks ensue.  Basically, family drama costs the Fire Nation the war.
Relationships: Azula and Ursa, Iroh and Azula, Zuko and Azula
Comments: 44
Kudos: 173





	1. Prince Professional Loser Goes Wife Hunting

Finding out your wife ran off with your daughter had to be rough, but not a single navy man on this vessel held the slightest sympathy for the dishonored Prince of the Fire Nation. No one knew what Prince Ozai had done to warrant Lady Ursa’s midnight flight, but it was hard for Lieutenant Jee to judge her for it.

To sum up, the Prince was a Royal Pain in the Ass who had absolutely no sense of how things worked on a ship. Certainly, he was an excellent firebender, and outranked all of them. But he was just so. . . difficult to respect.

“Can’t you get this ship going faster?” he demanded of anyone within earshot. How the captain had rigged the draw so Jee had to babysit His Highness, he did not know. But he’d get him back for it.

“Your Highness, if we aren’t careful, we won’t have enough fuel for the journey. We don’t know where the Princesses are or where they are headed, so this could turn out to be a lengthy chase.” Jee kept himself well out of reach as he said this. He was trying to be respectful. But he hadn’t been expecting a particularly large and ill-tempered child when they’d been ordered to travel the world with the Fire Prince.

Prince Ozai huffed and paced the deck. This was promising to be a long and arduous trip.

“How much trouble would we be in if we. . . dumped him overboard?”

Kyo glanced at him and shook his head. “We’d end up dead if he so much as heard you.”

“Figured.” Jee sighed and leaned back.

“He give you that much trouble?” Jun asked. They had all gathered below deck to discuss their path. The Captain sat with a map beside Kyo.

“I’m not going to complain. . . much. I recognize that he’s never had to go without the trappings of luxury and what not but seriously. He. . .” Jee stared at the ceiling. “He just strikes me as someone who’s cruel to cover up how small he feels inside.”

This earned a few grunts of understanding.

The Captain stood and everyone looked at him expectantly. “We’ve been given to understand that Princess Ursa will likely return to her hometown, so that is where we will check first.” He leveled a warning glare at them. “Refrain from angering the Prince. He is not known for his mercy and I intend to return home with all of you. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” intoned the crew.

Jee was going to have trouble with that last order.

It was hard to not laugh when a messenger hawk got tangled in anything, let alone the Fire Lord’s second son. Prince Ozai was unsuccessfully trying to get a young, feathered menace to let go of his top knot. Two of the crew were approaching cautiously but Jee got the feeling the prince would not appreciate aid. As it was, the air around him was starting to shimmer with heat. It would be wiser to suffer the loss of a single hawk than risk serious injury to his fellow crew members.

He gestured to the pair and they retreated diligently.

Then the hawk finally figured out how to free itself. It took a lock of hair with it.

Prince Ozai shot a stream of flame at it but missed and the beast thought it would be a good idea to retreat to Jee’s shoulder. He dearly wished it hadn’t. However, the prince must have seen the flash of fear on his face because he smiled and smoothed out his hair and clothes. He stalked toward the halls, pausing to tell Jee to alert him when they reached their destination.

Jee was grateful for some peace and quiet. He turned to the hawk perched on his shoulder. “Do you have any idea of how rude you are?” he asked it. It preened under its wing.

They made landfall at the port nearest the Princess’s hometown. The Fire Prince, fancy clothes and all, swept down the ramp like he was gracing them with his presence instead of ruining their morning. The captain made arrangements for land travel (apparently forgetting that the peacock goose would be utterly appalled to ride in anything other than a fancy carriage).

“Your Highness, you should probably change into something easier to ride in,” Jun suggested, face turned away from Ozai so he wouldn’t immediately know who had spoken. Jee admired his forethought. Ozai shot a haughty glare in the direction of the voice but could not distinguish between them. It would, of course, be beneath him to learn their names and faces. This would likely save their hides on more than one occasion.

Either way, they ended up travelling on rhino lizards with a very grumpy, trying-to-be-dignified prince in flowing robes that slowed their pace considerably as well as making him look totally ridiculous.

“It’s like we’re being chased by an angry red ostrich cow,” Jun muttered to Jee as they rode. Jee might have laughed, but ostrich cows were mean and a very good analogy for their malicious royal.

He did laugh (once, and not loud enough for anyone to hear) when the rhino lizard the prince rode tripped over the flowing robes and sent him face first into mud. One of their younger crewmen, Kato, was the only one who made the mistake of trying to help the prince to his feet. Everyone else was pointedly not looking, but Kato hopped down and extended his hand.

It was the scream the made everyone look.

Kato clutched his shaking arm, not touching the burn, but trying to squeeze the pain away from above it. Jee was beside him in a heartbeat. He had, fortunately, remembered to bring his supply of burn salve (just in case).

“Leave him,” Ozai commanded.

Jee forgot to breathe. Forgot everything but the rage those two words evoked.

The captain’s voice cut through the curtain of red. “Lieutenant Jee, take Kato back to the ship and treat his injury.”

“Did you not hear me?” demanded the peacock goose.

“I did, your Highness,” the captain replied evenly. “However, I have orders from the Fire Lord. I am to bring all of these men back to Caldera when we return.”

Ozai set his jaw but accepted the lie because he knew angering his father further would not improve his situation. He ignored Jee and Kato as they returned to their mounts and left the group. Jee silently wished the others luck on their trip.

He now was more certain than ever that Princess Ursa was in the right, even if he wished they could find her soon so he could not look at her husband ever again.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Kato gasped out. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“No worries kid. I’d kill that bastard for you.”

Jun was sorely missing his friend. Now it was just him, the captain, and the monster.

Well, nothing for it but to find their quarry ASAP. They picked up the pace (as much as the prince’s stupid robes would allow for). The town was. . . just like any other, but perhaps a bit better off than others Jun could name. He turned to the prince. “Do you know where we should start looking?”

Ozai huffed and said, “Ask for a man called Ikem.”

So they did. They were directed to a house just like all the others. A man bearing the name came out to greet them and he nearly panicked upon seeing Ozai. Most of the other people here had (it was a normal response), but this looked. . . more personal.

“I do not have time to chat, so let me be brief. Have you seen Ursa lately?” The words were pleasant enough, but his expression was anything but.

Surprise and confusion flashed over Ikem’s face. “No. I have not, Prince Ozai. We haven’t even received any letters from her since. . . well, it’s been a year or so.”

Ozai narrowed his eyes and Jun already knew what was coming even before the order left his mouth. “Search the house.”

He and the captain dismounted and brushed past Ikem, who followed nervously.

“Please don’t burn anything,” he pleaded.

Jun had no intention of utterly wrecking the house, but they were thorough. No sign of either Princess. The captain gave the bad news to Ozai. The prince sneered but merely turned to Ikem and commanded that he lead them to her parent’s house.

Ikem obliged, only as nervous as having the prince in his village warranted rather than in the I’m-harboring-a-fugitive way. Jun expected, and got, an angry outburst from the prince.

“Where would she go then?” he demanded of his father-in-law.

The man shook his head. “Your Highness, I have not seen my daughter in some time. She may have other noble friends she’d stay with. She hasn’t written us hardly at all since she was wed to you. It is possible she has forgotten us.” He had the look of a man bereaved.

That didn’t sound right. Why would she not write to her family? If she was dissatisfied enough to run away—

Oh. Prince Ostrich Cow.

She didn’t write them because he was a threat to her.

Come to think of it, Jun realized, didn’t Ozai have two children?

Fire Lord Azulon stalked his halls. Furious was an understatement for what he felt. His eldest failed to bring down Ba Sing Se, losing his grandson and heir in the process. His second son made a bid for the title of Crown Prince, costing Azulon not one but two heirs.

Useless, the lot of them.

Iroh of course was relatively blameless based on the reports. Such things happened in war. It merely meant that Azula would succeed him, since Iroh was determined not to remarry.

That was, of course, dependent on if Ozai could retrieve his daughter.

So here he was, pacing halls empty of all of his bloodline. Surrounded by malcontented whispers about Ozai. That, if nothing else, ensured that Azulon would never name Ozai Crown Prince. He had lost what little respect he’d held within the palace in one night.

A strange clinking noise brought his attention to a side room. Through the door, he found a pair of guards. Asleep on duty. And drunk by the smell.

“What is the meaning of this?” he growled.

The servant who followed him around supplied an answer. “These two were ordered to lock Princess Ursa away the night she left.”

He turned to her sharply and she held herself straighter, eyes still downcast. “Did you know they were in this state?” he demanded.

“No, your Majesty. I only know by their faces. Many of the staff have not slept since.”

This, he reminded himself, was why he kept her at his side. She always knew everything there was to know about the staff. So he stilled his anger and asked, “What does not allow them to sleep?”

Now she looked at him, disbelief written all over her face. He’d never seen her so expressive. “Fire Lord Azulon,” she said, treading very carefully, though her voice had more weight than any general he had ever spoken to, “the scream from your grandson. Prince Zuko. These guards not only had to listen to that but to the Princess begging for Prince Ozai to show mercy.”

“I gave that order, she should have no complaint.”

“It is known.” She stilled, eyes closed, waiting for her inevitable punishment. She had never expressed an opinion before, let alone something so damning. Azulon felt fire crawling under his skin.

“Do the servants know where Ursa took my granddaughter?”

“No. No one was privy to their plans.”

“So no one saw them leave.”

“. . . I escorted them out.”

He grabbed her chin. There was _defiance_ in those eyes. He couldn’t be sure if she were covering for someone else, but he did not doubt that she had done exactly as she said.

“Why?” he hissed.

“Because neither he nor you deserved those children.”

He grabbed her by the arm and called for guards. Two came running and the drunk pair stirred, still groggy. He addressed the sober pair and told them, “Take these three to the dungeons and await further orders.”

They bowed and took hold of the drunkards. She followed behind them without complaint. Her head held high.

She carried herself the same way when she met the executioner.

Two guards, who tried to drown their guilt in alcohol, and a servant, who all but spat in the face of the Fire Lord, were executed publicly. The crime they were collectively accused of: negligence.

Lao heard from more than one member of the staff that the servant, Shu Li, had taken the fall for everyone who had a hand in the Princesses’ escape. Many a maid wept her loss. She’d kept many of them safe from the Fire Lord for all ten years of her service as Azulon’s aide.

Lao for his part was standing at his post, plotting an assassination. 

“Still no word from the General, sir.” His junior, who had been fortunate enough to miss the events that precipitated the rebellion, told him.

He nodded. “Make sure everyone knows we can’t act until Prince Iroh is back in Caldera.”

“Yes sir.”

It had to be timed right. Failure was _not_ an option this time.

Lao sighed and went back to being stone-faced. They would also have to come up with someone willing to kill a certain prince as well. He would of course take the blame for the Fire Lord’s death. Like Shu Li, he would mount the chopping block knowing he’d done the right thing for his countrymen, even if it damned his own spirit.

He just had to wait for the right time to take Azulon’s head off.


	2. Shipwreck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has slightly more violence in it. Just so you know.

Azula jolted awake, breathing hard. She flinched away from Mother’s hand, even though she didn’t need to. She sat up and steadied her pulse.

“Here,” said a voice. A small girl, the one who’d been watching her since they began travelling together, held out some sort of lumpy chunk of coarse fabric. “He helps me sleep,” she explained, still holding it out to her.

Looking closer, it was a rather pathetic rendition of an animal. It was missing an eye. Mother nudged her gently.

Azula sighed and took it. “Thank you.”

The other girl offered a nervous, gap-toothed smile, before retreating to her grandfather’s side. Her two brothers were curled up together on their grandfather’s other side. The back of her throat burned at the sight. She settled back into the blankets, holding the weird little animal close. Neither helped. Neither had the warmth that had always chased away the nightmares. She sighed and curled up as tight as she could. Mother hummed a song (Azula had forgotten the words a while ago) but did not touch her.

_Mother does love you, you know._

Easy for you to say, dum-dum.

It still felt too tenuous to be comfortable. When she’d offered to take Azula away from the palace, to go together, the child in her couldn’t refuse. Still, she had spent a long time believing that Mother thought of her as a monster. Father she understood. . . . Rather, she understood her place in Father’s eyes.

Maybe leaving home hadn’t been a good idea. But how could she look Father in the face after that night?

Azula was awake at sunrise and slipped out of camp unnoticed so she could practice behind some trees where the peasants wouldn’t see. The weird animal thing she returned to its owner.

Another long day of walking began after a short breakfast. Mother had gotten them both some peasant clothing so they wouldn’t be conspicuous, which was fine, but the fabric was decidedly uncomfortable. Seriously, didn’t they have something less scratchy? The colony trash they were traveling with seemed to enjoy walking everywhere in these clothes. The eldest of the kids, a boy maybe two years older than her, beckoned her to join them as they ran and played. As if. She stayed by Mother’s side.

They rested only when the old man tired. The little kids who were with them could be carried, but he could not. Other than Mother, there were only two adults: the old man and a middle aged woman escorting two rambunctious toddlers. This meant that the kids simply ran amuck most of the time.

“Sun Feng!” the old man called to the eldest. “Please fetch some water for us.”

“Sure!” He ran off, dumping his little brother into his sister’s arms and grabbing the water skins.

The girl drew closer to where Azula was sitting. She plopped herself and the little menace down next to her and offered that same gap-toothed smile. “How old are you?” she asked.

“Nine. Why?”

“I’m eight! We left home a year ago. Grampa still won’t tell me why we had to leave. Do you know why you left your home?”

Azula smiled, but the girl didn’t seem to understand the threat. So she answered, “We left because we got bored there.”

The girl cocked her head slightly, but then continued on rambling about her home and that they hadn’t stayed in one place since then for more than a month. She just. . . kept talking. It was exhausting. How did she have that kind of energy even after walking for nearly an entire day?

“. . . Then we met you at the ferry. Are you headed to Omashu too?”

“No. I think we’re going farther than that.”

“Aww. Well, maybe you can stay at Omashu for a bit before you leave!” She seemed so excited that Azula hesitated to ruin it. It was. . . almost like with Ty Lee. The bubbly personality was nearly the same.

“. . . Maybe.”

There was that smile again.

Then the little brother Azula had been pointedly ignoring tugged on her sleeve. “Play with us please?” he begged. “We have a ball.”

She jerked her arm away from the kid and stalked off. Playing with peasants was still not an option for her. She was not lonely and never would be lonely enough to justify such dishonor.

Jee was actually going to murder the prince.

Burning Kato aside, even his short temper did not justify burning down an entire town, much less _murdering citizens of the Fire Nation_. Even from the ship, they could see the pillar of smoke the moment it went up. When they arrived (leaving only Kato and Kyo behind), the captain and Jun were desperately trying to calm an angry Ozai down. Most of the townspeople were fleeing or trying to put out the fires and stay out of the prince’s way at the same time.

Nearest Jee was a little girl, maybe five or six years old, sobbing in front of what he could assume to be the flaming ruins of her home. Alone.

While the ship’s doctor and other crew ran off to help injured people, he knelt next to her and asked, “Are you hurt?”

She gasped and looked up at him. She shook her head slowly, tears still flooding from her eyes. He looked back at the house. Not much he could do about that. So, he scooped her up and found a panicked woman. It wasn’t the girl’s mother, but the woman took her regardless. He turned to see what he could do that would keep him far from the object of ire. He decided to help the townspeople carry buckets of water to douse the flames on the structures that could be saved.

Behind him, he heard Jun yell, “AND HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO HELP US FIND YOUR WIFE?!”

He looked, watching as the prince stared his friend down. Nausea crept up from his gut. He doubted even the captain’s lie would keep Ozai from hurting Jun now.

He hated being right.

Ozai’s hand shot up to Jun’s face and an earsplitting shriek of agony chased Jun’s fall. Jee wasn’t sure when he started moving, wasn’t sure what the captain and the rest were doing. He only had eyes for the writhing mass that was his closest friend.

Jun clutched at the air in front of his face, wanting but fearing to touch the blackened mess. Jee could feel himself talking (maybe yelling a bit to be heard), but he couldn’t hear anything other than Jun’s cries. Regardless, he managed to calm Jun enough for him to try and get his helmet off.

The captain shouted for the doctor somewhere above Jee’s head.

Jee was physically lifted and moved by one of the others so that the doctor could treat him. It was too late. Jun was in shock, his breathing shallowing rapidly. The doctor did everything he could, but Jun stopped moving. Stopped breathing.

Jee stopped thinking.

The creak of metal and hiss of pipes woke him. The realization that he was back on the ship was chased by a splitting headache. He looked around slowly, finding Kato sitting by his bunk. The kid was significantly paler than usual. Some of his color returned when he noticed Jee looking at him.

“Good you’re awake!” he said, smiling. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How much do you remember?”

Jee considered this and nearly threw up. Once he got his nausea back under control her asked, “Is Jun. . . ?”

“I’m sorry. We had the funeral already. The prince. . . the captain had to knock you out to stop you from trying to kill him. You were out the whole rest of the day.” Kato’s hands curled into fists. One arm was bandaged. Jee stared at it.

“We need to get rid of him.”

“We can’t. Never mind what the Fire Lord would do to us, we have families back home. Do you know what they do to the families of traitors?”

Jee did know and he did not want to think about it. He’d have to come up with something that could feasibly be an accident then.

Three days later, a small stowaway provided a suitable solution.

Jee had been ordered to stay well away from the prince. Fine by him. The less he saw of that bastard, the better. But this meant he was spending significantly more time below deck (primarily cleaning the latrines as punishment).

During one of his cleaning escapades, he encountered a scorpion rat. Poisonous and downright vicious, it was the perfect assassin. He caught it with a bucket and carefully carried the package up to Ozai’s quarters. The prince was up on deck at this hour but would be returning soon, so Jee dumped the creature into Ozai’s bed and slipped back to his post as quickly and quietly as he could.

Now to wait.

The results were. . . more explosive than expected. They were in the lifeboats with what supplies they’d been able to rescue, watching the ship sink into the ocean, when the captain demanded an explanation.

The prince answered, “A pest dared to attack me, so I killed it.”

“By blowing a hole in the ship?” The captain’s voice was dangerously low and calm.

Ozai met his gaze with those liquid gold predator’s eyes. “Collateral damage.”

The captain closed his eyes briefly. Counting armor creaks in his head so he wouldn’t throw the trash into the ocean. Finally he opened his eyes and shouted orders to the rest of the crew. They made landfall as the sun set and set up a makeshift camp on the shore.

Jee had to sleep outside on the ground with the others. The prince slept under a fabric canopy, on the only blankets they’d grabbed. Jee laid awake most of the night, regretting his life choices.


	3. Battle of the Ostrich Cows (the Cabbage Man Hates the Royal Family)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I completely forgot about part of this, so here is an updated Chapter 3. Thank you, whoever reminded me!

Azula was less than thrilled to be walking into Omashu with the peasants, but it couldn’t be avoided. The bubbly girl, Mili, had become her shadow and this meant that her brothers and subsequently the two toddlers gravitated towards her in spite of her best efforts to scare them off. Well, not ‘best’ efforts. She knew better than to threaten them with firebending.

Either way, Mother apparently found some amusement in her predicament and decided to continue staying with the peasants for a while longer.

They made it through the gates without problem. No one knew what she and Mother looked like, so there was no way for the guards to realize they’d let Fire Nation royalty into their city.

“Wow!” Mili exclaimed. She couldn’t seem to find better words to describe the sight of Omashu’s mail system. She kept gesturing wildly, grabbing hold of Azula’s arm and pointing to various things she thought were cool.

The city was impressive, she supposed. But she didn’t think it warranted quite this much excitement. Sun Feng wasn’t much better. He was carrying his younger brother and pointing things out to ask their Grandfather about.

Grandfather merely chuckled and told them, “I don’t honestly know much more than you about this place. I just know we’ll be—we’ll have a better life here.”

Mother was talking with the other woman. Azula heard her say, “If you don’t mind. We’d like to stay with you.”

Oh please no.

“Of course you can! I was worried you’d be travelling alone after this!”

We should be.

“We probably would have been. It isn’t safe though, so I want to find a family we can travel with to our destination.”

Here Azula had to interject. She turned to face Mother (walking backwards with Mili still attached to her arm). “Where are we going?”

“A small town where an old friend is staying. It’s between here and Ba Sing Se.”

We don’t have friends in the Earth Kingdom, she didn’t say. The only ‘allies’ to speak of would be Uncle’s army, which was retreating from the famous walled city. Mother couldn’t seriously consider him a friend.

She shrugged and turned back around. Mili continued to be annoying (and endearing, but Azula would never admit that).

They reached a small section of the city where a lot of refugees lived. Grandfather explained that they had built this part of the city specifically for housing ‘new people’ and that this is where they would be staying.

It was clean, especially considering it was basically the slums.

Maybe this won’t be so bad, said a small voice in the back of her head.

_Maybe one day we’ll get to visit places outside the Fire Nation!_

If only you’d been here to see it, Zuzu. You’d have enjoyed it.

A soft hand smoothed her hair down. Mother must have seen the tension in her shoulders. Azula let her. It was the first time since that night that Azula felt she could let Mother touch her. She leaned into it.

Mili was watching her. Brown eyes that saw way too much.

Azula shrugged off Mother’s hand and followed Sun Feng and Grandfather into the building they’d be sharing.

The nightmares were back. Mili wordlessly got up and slipped into Azula’s bed. She pressed her back to Azula’s, in exactly the way. . . No. Azula turned over and buried her face in Mili’s silky hair. Mother’s lullaby hummed through the room.

Azula drifted back off to sleep.

It was a peaceful day in Omashu. Well, it was until a trio of kids ran through the street and nearly knocked him and his cart over.

“Be more careful!” he shouted after them as he collected the few cabbages that had fallen.

“Out of the way old man!” growled a particularly fierce looking little girl as she leapt _through_ the gap in his cart. Several heads hit the ground. It startled him so bad he ended up knocking the cart over and spilled all of them into the street.

“No!” he cried. The heads of cabbage continued to roll down the street unfazed. “My cabbages!”

Azula felt like her insides were boiling. Sun Feng had taken the _knife_ from her bag and was daring her to come and get it back. Another boy from the neighboring house was playing keep-away-from-the-girl with him.

_It’s from Uncle! Look what Uncle gave me, Azula!_

Her heart pounded. She knocked pedestrians over with impunity. She had to get it back.

She saw them turn a corner and ducked into a parallel street so she could come out closer. It worked. She jumped onto Sun Feng’s back and knocked him to the ground. The neighbor’s boy caught the treasure before it could hit the ground.

“Where’d you even get this?” he asked as he held it out of reach. “It’s too rich for someone like you.”

She kneed him with all the force of a kata, doubling him over, so she could snatch it back. “It was a gift,” she huffed, trying to calm her breathing.

“You stole it more like,” Sun Feng growled, tackling her from behind so his friend could get it back.

“IT WAS MY BROTHER’S! YOU GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!” she shouted, before biting down hard enough to draw blood. Sun Feng released her with a pained squeal.

The neighbor dropped it and backed away fast enough for him to trip on a loose stone. She took the knife, hands trembling. Fortunately, there hadn’t been any fire. She had enough control to ensure that didn’t happen, but it was a close thing. Her breathing was ragged.

“You have a brother?” Sun Feng asked. He sounded nervous. But also. . . gentle? It made no sense.

She glared at him. “Had,” she corrected, burying her emotions quicker than an earthbender could bury a man.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He looked sad. “We had an older sister, too. You remind us of her.”

That explained a lot. “What about me reminds you of her?”

“You’re mean and you don’t share.” She drew herself up and went to walk away. “But you both listen to Mili and don’t complain about it even though everyone thinks she’s annoying.”

Azula paused, just briefly, and said, “She reminds me of a friend.”

The boys followed her to the house, always keeping their distance.

“What happened?” Grandfather demanded when he saw the blood on Sun Feng’s hand.

“Dog. I tried to pet it.”

Mother looked at the shape and met Azula’s eyes. “What happened?” Her question was softer, her eyes having landed on the knife in her hand.

Sun Feng noticed the look and explained. “We were teasing her and tried to keep it from her. It was my fault.”

Grandfather looked between the three of them. “She bit you?”

“And kneed Yu in the crotch. But the knife was her brother’s. I didn’t know until she yelled at us.”

Mili came up beside Azula and looked (but did not touch). “It’s pretty. Did he give it to you when you left home?”

Azula stiffened. “Yes.”

Sun Feng met her eyes and nodded once, almost imperceptibly. Grandfather saw it though, his lips set in a firm line. He still reprimanded them both about behavior, but it was significantly kinder in tone than any other man had ever used in Azula’s near ten years of life.

I don’t need your sympathy, she nearly spat.

_It’s not sympathy. I just don’t want you to get sick._

She shoved the memory away. She _refused_ to cry where they could see her. Why is it getting so hard to hide this stuff? she demanded. Her brain did not answer.

That night, she slept next to Mother.

Two days after their arrival in Omashu, Mother and the other women, Cheng (who was Mili’s aunt apparently), took the girls with them when they went shopping for food. Azula complained briefly that she didn’t want to go but Mili pouted and made those eyes that were unbelievably hard to look at.

For the most part it was just more of the same, the adults discussing money and what they’d need for the families while she was subjected to Mili dragging her around.

At one point, they went around a corner or two and, after some time looking at jewelry (Mili had never seen anything so nice before), turned around and realized they couldn’t see Mother or Cheng.

“Kiki,” Mili said, scanning the moving crowd, “should we head back to the house?”

Azula considered this and pulled her towards an-easy-to-climb building. “Let’s take a look around.”

Mili stared at her as she scaled the wall and reached the roof. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

She chuckled and nodded. From her perch, she coached Mili on where to put her feet and hands and soon they were both on the roof. Azula stood and went to look around at the crowds below, but Mili apparently had terrible balance.

“Kiyi!” she cried out as she fell. Onto her hands and knees and not the ground thankfully. Azula told her to just shuffle instead of trying to stand (she didn’t turn her back on her again after that).

Mother and Cheng were nowhere in sight.

“Alright, let’s try and retrace our steps first.” Azula helped Mili get down and led the way back to the last spot they’d seen them. Unsurprisingly, they weren’t there. But they asked around and one of the stall owners had an answer.

“They went down that way last I saw,” she informed them, pointing to a wide street that crossed the one they were on.

“Thanks!” Mili told her and they followed her direction. It was hard to see in the crowd since both of them were a great deal shorter than most of the people there. Mili had a solution: “You could ride on my shoulders! Sis and I used to do that a lot.”

They tried it. Mili wasn’t strong enough to lift her for long.

“Why don’t we switch then?” Azula suggested.

So they did and Azula found it was difficult, but not impossible. Mili was about the same height as her, but she was stronger (due to training no doubt). They continued looking for their missing chaperones in this manner for a while to no avail.

Asking the store owners and vendors didn’t help either. No one remembered seeing them, or else the people they asked wouldn’t give them the time of day.

“Buzz off, kids,” one man ordered, flapping his hand in a shooing motion as he walked away. “If you’re not here for the food, I can’t help you.”

Flames curled around Azula’s fingers as she clenched her fists. Mili flinched and backed away in shock. Azula doused the flames before anyone else noticed and looked at her, at a loss for words. Not being able to practice was causing her to have some control issues apparently.

“I’m sorry,” she told her. It was the first time in memory that she’d said those words and meant them. “I—”

“You,” Mili said, voice trembling, “you’re a firebender?”

“. . . Yes.”

“That’s so cool!”

“What.”

“You’re just like Sis! She was the only bender in the family after Dad left.” Mili’s eyes weren’t full of fear or even worry. She was practically bouncing.

“Huh. Okay.” That was a first. “Was she an earthbender?”

Mili nodded. “Can you show me again?”

Azula shook her head and said, “Most people here would get mad if their noticed. I’ll show you some other time.”

“Why would people be mad? Bending is cool.”

“ _Fire_ bending isn’t. Not here anyway.”

Mili cocked her head to the side. “How come?”

“. . . Do you not know about the war?”

“War?”

Oh boy. “The Fire Nation is at war with the Earth Kingdom right now. For most people, as stupid as it is, firebenders are the enemy.”

Understanding dawned on her face. “Are earthbenders enemies to the Fire Nation?”

“Yeah, why?”

“They took Kiyi away.”

Kiyi? Wait. . . “Is Kiyi your sister?”

She nodded. “Will they hurt her?”

Most likely. She couldn’t say that though. She didn’t need to. Mili saw it on her face and burst into tears. Azula stood there awkwardly for a moment before Mili wrapped her arms around her. She pat her back, trying not to think about the drool and snot soaking into her shirt. Not like it was a nice shirt anyway, though.

Eventually, she calmed down and, through ragged gasps, asked, “Did they take your brother away, too?”

Azula tensed. “Yes.” It was all she could manage.

Mili hugged her tighter and didn’t let go.

They decided to just make their way back to the house instead of wandering around the city. Mother was already there, in the middle of asking their neighbors to help her look for them. Cheng saw them and put her hand on Mother’s shoulder.

“Sorry we were gone so long!” Mili said, smiling even though her eyes were still puffy.

Sun Feng glared at Azula. “What did you do?”

“We got lost, dum—” she bit off the last remark. That wasn’t who she was talking to.

“Also!” Mili shouted, breaking off her conversation with Cheng when her eyes landed on Sun Feng. “You lied to me!”

“Huh?” he asked, backing away from her a step. “Lied about what?”

“About Kiyi! And probably Mom and Dad, too! Why did no one mention to me that we left home because of a _war_?”

Sun Feng turned to Azula. “You _told_ her?!”

Azula crossed her arms. “I’m not sure how this is my fault, since you guys decided not to.”

Mother glanced at Grandfather and raised an eyebrow.

He sighed and explained, “The Fire Nation soldiers in the colony were given orders to capture all of the benders. They came at night. Their father is off fighting with the Navy and their mother tried to stop the soldiers from taking Kiyi. They. . .” He hung his head. “I took the kids and Cheng into the forest. I don’t know for sure, but I would guess that both of them were killed for fighting back.”

Mother knelt by Mili and hugged her.

Mili looked up at her when they pulled apart and asked, “Where is Kiki’s father? Was he also taken?”

Azula barked a laugh. “Hopefully his ship sinks,” she spat.

Sun Feng looked at her, alarm written all over his face. “What?”

“I hate him.” And that was that. Once the words were out she knew they were true. She’d been trying to justify what he’d done, but nothing would fit into place. Now she was left with just that rampant anger.

Grandfather broke the silence that followed with, “Well, from now on, you will stay within sight of whoever you’re with.” He directed this at all of them, even the neighbors’ kids. “I don’t want to have to comb the entire city for one of you, but I will.”

Mili had told the boys about Azula climbing a building, so now she was spending her time teaching them what to do and not do. Mother scolded them once for cracking the tiles on a house and knocking them onto some ‘poor cabbage merchant’ but otherwise let them have fun.

“No more property damage,” she called after them as they ran off to play.

Barely two weeks after they arrived in Omashu, Mother woke Azula before dawn with upsetting news.

“We need to leave at first light,” she told her. “Grab your things while I make breakfast.” ‘Making breakfast’ consisted of her gathering some fruit and two chunks of bread. Azula saw her shuffle some other food into a bag for the road.

“Do they know we’re leaving?” she asked as she got changed.

“The kids don’t but we can’t wait. The family we’re leaving with is moving today,” she answered, before looking at Azula and offering a sad smile. “I’m sorry, but the truth is we’re not safe here.”

“I know.” She looked down at Mili, who was curled up in the blanket Azula usually used. It didn’t feel right to leave like this. She shot a glance at Mother and slipped over to the little girl. “Mili,” she called softly.

“ . . . Huh?” Mili asked, shifting slightly and looking up at her with sleep and drool all over her face.

“Mother and I are leaving now,” she explained. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

“. . . Will I see you again, Kiyi?” she asked.

Azula wasn’t sure how to answer that. First, she apparently thought she was talking to her sister. Second, and more importantly, it would be risky to meet or even promise to meet up with this family since Mother and she were actual political fugitives. Even so. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ll send you a letter when we get where we’re going.”

“You know I can’t read, Sis,” Mili yawned.

Oh. “Well, then ask someone to read it for you.”

Mili nodded, pulling the blankets to her chin. “Bye-bye, Kiyi.”

“. . . Goodbye, Mili.”

They left the house with what little they had and met a larger group of people at the city gates.

They had been travelling by land for some time since arriving on Earth Kingdom shores, traversing the coast to find any news of their quarry. Convincing the prince to shed his royal robes for a disguise was. . . nightmarish. Everyone was worried he’d fly off the handle again and kill another crewman.

Eventually, the captain convinced him that this was the only way to track down his wife and daughter without being spotted and attacked.

Jee still seethed at the thought of travelling with the monster but couldn’t risk it at the moment. Better to hope some hyper vigilant Earth Kingdom soldier spotted him and ordered an attack (which, of course, meant they would also be caught up in it unless everyone decided to just ditch Prince Ostrich Cow).

In a surprising (and hopefully beneficial) twist, a pair that matched the Princesses’ descriptions had been seen travelling to Omashu with a group of colony citizens.

However, before they could even begin worrying about that, a more pressing matter presented itself. No one had thought to grab the money they’d been granted by the Fire Lord. Their food stores were also running low and Agni help anyone who dared suggest that Ozai should eat less.

In short, Jee was hungry. Everyone was hungry.

They were about two days’ journey from Omashu when they ran into real trouble.

Ozai had stumbled into an ostrich cow nest. And, assuming they lived to tell about it, this was the story Jee would tell his future grandkids:

Prince Ostrich Cow fell face first into a nest of his own kind. He rose, only to find a mated pair staring down at him with beady eyes full of outrage.

Taking one grunting step forward, the mother let out a cry and stripped Ozai of a chunk of hair. The mighty prince retreated, stunned, only to be chased by the mother. The father ostrich cow stood over their eggs, angrily raking the ground.

Mother ostrich cow continued to pluck the prince even as he swatted and yelled and shot fire at her. Finally, she kicked him once in the ribs and once in the butt when he doubled over.

(He was not going to tell them that Ozai proceeded to roast the poor animal alive as she walked away. Nor was he going to tell them that the crew ate her for dinner, well away from her mate and their nest.)

Later that night, as they sat around the campfire, the doctor grudgingly checked over the various bite marks on Ozai. He demanded that the prince remove his shirt so he could check the state of his ribs and gut more thoroughly.

Jee couldn’t help but stare. There was a bandage on the princes arm already. And beneath it, there were two small handprints encircling his right wrist. The burns were new, no more than a couple months old at most.

Who could possibly have gotten away with that?

Well, it was more likely they _hadn’t_.

But the hands that made those marks were too small. A child’s hands. Ozai refused to answer any questions about it and made a point to raise his fist at those that dared to ask.

They made it to Omashu without further incident, unfortunately. They even made it into the city without difficulty (though this might have been due to Ozai looking distinctly too ragged to be a warrior, let alone a prince).

They searched for hours through Omashu’s equivalent of the slums but found no one who had seen or heard of the Princesses. Jee was relieved and annoyed to hear this bit of news.

Unfortunately for the city’s residents, Ozai was now in a permanently foul mood. He looked every inch the madman: hair choppy and uneven and bald in places, clothes ragged and filthy from his scuffle with nature, and a wild look of rage in his eyes.

Most people were smart enough to move out of the way. One man was not.

Jee couldn’t decide if he was just really stupid or lucky. Possibly both. Either way, this lowlife cabbage merchant couldn’t get his cart out of the way of the madman and Ozai took it out on the cart (and the man’s livelihood) instead of him.

The man ran around like a chicken possum with its head cut off. He beat at the Fire Prince’s back and yelled things like, “How could you! You’re worse than those kids!” and “People have no respect!”

Ozai merely shrugged him off and kept walking. Apparently, violently busting the cabbage cart into kindling and kicking produce across the street was enough to sooth his wrath for the time being. Jee quietly thanked the cabbage man for his service, but they had to go before he could try and help the poor guy.

They left him in the street, sniffling forlornly at the remains of a cabbage head.


	4. The Long Road Home

Azula was not expecting to feel so. . . lonely.

Sure, Mother was talking more with her (though they both avoided certain topics) and some of the teens in their new group were friendly, but Mili wasn’t here to fill her ears with that odd hope and optimism that filled the Hole. Leaving Omashu felt the same way leaving Caldera had. Well, not Caldera, Zuko.

She still hadn’t told Mother everything. She still couldn’t think about it.

Mother shook beneath the blankets the first night away from the city. Azula just cuddled closer. Sharing a blanket didn’t guarantee safety (she knew that from experience), but it sure felt like it should.

The next few days were easier. The teens in the group largely ignored her but a boy referred to only as ‘Lucky’ sat with her when they rested. It took her longer than expected to recognize why he preferred to sit away from the others.

He had fire blooded eyes, like her and Mother. No one else in the group did, but it only mattered because the teenagers looked at them warily. The adults for the most part simply avoided looking.

“Why are you traveling with us?” she asked once she’d puzzled this phenomenon out.

“I have an aunt and uncle who live in Ba Sing Se. My parents. . . were arrested by the Fire Nation for sheltering someone.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes, though it seemed more an issue of hiding his tears than honesty.

Azula left it at that. There were less sensitive topics, like what foods they liked or which of the teens they hated most, that they could discuss. Lucky turned out to have a sense of humor not unlike her own and a mind for pranks. They got scolded more than once by most of the adults.

(Ursa watched in awe as Lucky got Azula to genuinely laugh for the first time in years.)

Parting ways with Lucky was perhaps a little easier than parting with Mili, but a great deal more worrying considering they'd only known each other for about a week.

“Don’t worry about me!” he chuckled. “I can handle them now, thanks to you.”

“Take care of yourself,” Mother told him, bowing politely. “I pray you have no difficulty finding your family.”

He bowed in return and ruffled Azula’s hair for the first and only time. She batted his hands away, though with less venom than she might have had with anyone else. The last thing he said before rejoining the other families was, “Take care of your Mother, Kiki!”

Azula had to put all her effort into keeping a calm exterior as they turned down the road that led to the village they’d be staying at. The statue of a large animal with ridiculous long claws stood at the fork, stone eyes following her like the intruder she was.

The village, such as it was, was full of farmers and herders. Azula dreaded their likely extended stay. The house Mother walked to was slightly larger than the others and a handful of elderly women sat near its door.

“Good evening,” she said, “is Uma inside?”

One squinted up at her, shrewd eyes searching for something only she could know. “She is,” came the eventual reply.

“Thank you.” They went inside, Mother putting a hand on Azula’s shoulder and pulling her closer as they crossed the threshold. Azula could feel her tension and scanned the room thoroughly as they entered.

A woman, perhaps five years Mother’s senior, sat in a rocking chair. Azula’s heart caught in her throat. Those eyes were empty. Not sightless like someone blind, but _empty_ like death.

She kept rocking, unaware of the visitors. Please let this not be Uma.

“Ursa?” asked a voice from an adjacent doorway. Azula dragged her eyes from the rocking chair and looked. The voice belonged to a woman with the same sort of round face as Uncle. “Oh, it is you!”

“Hello, Uma dear. I’m so sorry it’s been so long.”

“Not to worry, love, war’s got everyone in a tailspin.” The smile radiated warmth (Mili and Zuko warmth, not Father warmth). Uma’s eyes landed on Azula and the smile slipped into surprise and shock. “My, she really looks like you!”

“This is Azula. Thank you so much for allowing us to stay here.”

“You are always welcome to my table, Ursa. But just look at you,” she said to Azula, kneeling slightly to get a better look. Azula stepped out from under Mother’s arm and faced her fully. “How old are you now?”

“Nearly ten.”

“How the years fly,” she exclaimed, chuckling as she straightened up. “Now, there is a room open nearest the kitchen that I’ve made up for you. Won’t be what you’re accustomed to, but it’s freshly cleaned and quiet until early morning.”

“That should be perfect. We’re usually up at sunrise anyway.” The two of them started moving further into the house? Apartments? She wasn’t all that sure what this place was, looking at the woman in the rocker.

“Ah, take it she’s a firebender then?”

“A prodigy.” Azula startled to hear the pride in Mother’s voice. That. . . was unexpected. As was the appreciative glance Uma spared her.

_Mother does love you. Father just forbade her from spending any time with you._

I guess you were right, Zuzu.

She hurried to catch up with them. Uma had just opened the door to their new room when Azula asked, “What exactly is this place?”

“A sanctuary.” Uma turned to face her. “A lot of people spend some time here to heal injuries both physical and emotional before they move on to the capital, where refugees are promised more permanent safety.”

“What about the woman back there?”

Uma’s face fell. “She received news last week about her husband and son. They had been conscripted to fight for the Army during the siege. Used as bait in a death trap apparently.” She hesitated slightly, taking a breath and watching Azula as she said, “The same battle your cousin died in.”

Azula nodded. She hadn’t been as close to Lu Ten as Zuko had been, but she had since learned that the weight of such things was nothing to scoff at.

She set her little bag down in the room and took out the knife from her sash. She just. . . stared at it for a while.

Three days of readjusting to the quiet village later, shouts from the villagers called them from their breakfast and to the windows.

“The Dragon is here!” one man yelled, nearly tripping on his own crutch. Everyone who’d been out and about hid in their homes (or if they couldn’t get there fast enough, found shelter with their neighbors).

“Do they mean Uncle?” Azula wondered aloud.

“Most likely.” Mother was beside her, brow furrowed. Probably trying to weigh their options.

Not that it mattered, apparently. The beleaguered army that came into view was barely half of what had gone out from the Fire Nation. Many of them were dragging their feet or supporting (often carrying) their comrades. She doubted they'd be worried about two fugitives. They came into the valley and just set up camp in one of the fields outside the village.

Azula barely recognized Uncle. _The Dragon of the West lost his claws_ , said the side of her that had been growing ever quieter these last weeks. The rest of her ached with the knowledge that Father would never carry that weight.

She’d run out the door before her brain caught up. Oh well. She’d been spotted, so there wasn’t a point in turning around.

Mother wasn’t far behind her.

One of the soldiers stood but made no defensive move. He obviously didn’t think a little girl could do much harm. “Need something, kid?” he asked, voice dripping with exhaustion.

“Not from you,” she told him, trying not to spit the words, as she slowed to a walk.

“Azula?” asked a familiar voice.

She turned to look, finding a much quieter man than she remembered. “Hello, Uncle.”

He offered a sad smile and held out his arms for a hug. A moment’s hesitation gave way to acceptance. “It’s been too long. You’ve grown so much I’m certain you will pass me up far too soon,” he told her when she pulled away. “What brings you to the Earth Kingdom? And—” He stared at their clothes.

Mother sighed and said, “There’s a great deal we need to catch up on, I’m afraid.”

“Of course.” He gestured for them to follow him as he walked towards one of the tents his men had set up. They sat on the ground inside, Azula next to Mother and across from Uncle, like this was some sort of family picnic rather than an important discussion.

Uncle waited for them to begin, eyes slowly shifting between them, fully aware they bore bad news but unsure of how bad.

Mother began by telling him what Azula had already told her: that Father had angered the Fire Lord by trying to take Uncle’s place as Crown Prince. That Grandfather had ordered Father to kill Zuko as punishment.

“Knowing Azulon,” she continued, “he meant it for Ozai to realize the weight of what he’d done.”

“More of a head game than an actual order,” Uncle affirmed, his face having grown several shades paler.

“Yes, but. . . Ozai went through with it.” She took a moment to compose herself before continuing. “He ordered me locked in my rooms and all I heard was. . . was a scream.”

Uncle closed his eyes and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like a prayer, though Azula didn’t catch the words. “Was. . . was he given a proper burial?”

“Yes.”

Both of them looked at her.

“The guard that Father ordered to ‘dispose of the body’ asked me if he could. He was the one with two different color eyes that Zuko spent a lot of time with when no one was looking.”

Horror etched across Mother’s face. “You saw him?”

It took Azula a moment to realize Mother meant Zuko’s body. Bile built in her throat, but she forced it back. “I was in the room. Zuko told me to hide under the blankets so Father wouldn’t be mad at me too.”

Mother put her hand over her mouth and bit back a sob.

Azula curled her hands into fists and finished, “Father told Zuko to look up at him. . . before he grabbed him by the neck and burned him.”

“Is that what you see in your nightmares?” Mother’s voice was so _small_.

She didn’t look up at her and answered, “No, it’s mostly just the sounds. What I see is Zuko’s eyes. They—it’s like that woman in Uma’s house. They’re just. . . empty.”

Mother pulled her close, both for her own sake as Azula’s, and sobbed. Azula hid her face and blinked away her tears.

King Bumi had sent soldiers to investigate them. Even Ozai seemed to recognize this as a problem. So they high tailed it out of Omashu, with exactly zero leads on where the Princesses had run off to.

“We can’t exactly go wandering around in the Earth Kingdom in the wake of General Iroh’s siege,” Kyo growled, keeping his voice low enough that no one but Jee and Kato could hear.

“Yeah, try telling _him_ that,” Kato grunted, shifting his load around to be slightly more comfortable.

“We have no real supplies now and have been walking for weeks. Even he’ll have to call it quits eventually,” Kyo continued.

“Pretty sure he’d roast us for dinner first,” Jee growled back. “I hate this mission.”

Nature seemed to side with them on this one though. Twice in the same day, a platypus bear tried to swipe Ozai’s head off. It may have even been the same one both times, but they (or it) were obviously smart enough to disappear into the forest as quick as they came.

Needless to say, they didn’t have roast platypus bear for dinner. Instead, they had nuts and berries and a single fish that night.

“How are you the only one who can catch fish?” Kato asked him after three days of failure.

“Grew up in a fishing village. Fish in the streams and rivers are different, but the techniques for nets are pretty much the same everywhere.” Jee cast his net back in a different spot. This was just like fishing with his little brother, Kai. Like fishing with Jun.

 _Hey, we might be on the same ship_ , he’d said when they’d been called to serve the Navy. He’d been so damn excited to find out that they had been assigned to the same crew.

Jee wrangled in the single fish his net had snagged. He struck it on the head once. It stopped moving. He tossed it to the cook. “Here you go, sir.” (He had the same name as his brother, so he always just called him ‘sir.’)

The captain walked by with a bag of what they could assume were berries hanging from one hand and nodded silently at them.

Jee looked back at their camp. Ozai was sitting on a log, back straight and eyes full of disdain as the men around him worked. He turned and made eye contact with Jee. It was a look that promised, _you’re next_.

Spirits, he just wanted to go home.


	5. An Important Secret

The army was planning to move again.

Uncle stayed behind, telling his commanders that they needed to get the soldiers home and that he had some pressing matters to attend to, but he would be along shortly. There wasn’t much complaining, but one of them insisted on sending messenger hawks to him to keep him up to date on important things.

“Why aren’t you going with them?” Azula asked as the mass of survivors moved away steadily.

“Well, first I want to discuss something with you two.”

“Mother’s not in trouble, right?”

Uncle chuckled softly. “No.”

Mother returned from the house. “Dinner’s ready,” she told them.

They went inside and ate with the other residents. Uma fed the woman in the rocking chair. Most of the others eyed Uncle skeptically but said nothing. Uma, on the other hand, engaged in polite conversation with everyone and even went so far as to ask Uncle if he liked Earth Kingdom food.

“I have enjoyed everything I’ve tried,” he admitted, smiling. It still wasn’t the smile she remembered, but it was genuine.

“I like the curry,” Mother told him. “What’s been your favorite?”

“Hmm. Probably the roast duck.”

This seemed to break the ice around the table and a few of the others offered suggestions for things they should try. After that, everything felt more relaxed.

That night, Uncle sat them down and asked them a question. “What do you intend to do from here?”

Mother smiled sadly. “I hoped we could stay here for a time and build a quiet life. I’m sure the Fire Lord has sent someone to look for us since Azula is the only one who can succeed you.”

He nodded. “And if the person he sent is Ozai? What will you do?”

Kill him, Azula’s brain supplied.

“We will likely have to flee. I can’t stomach going back to him, let alone letting him raise Azula.” Azula saw something flash across Uncle’s face. Trepidation? Maybe understanding.

“I see. Would you come if I take you to my estates outside of Caldera? You would be safer there than here or anywhere else in the Earth Kingdom.”

Mother looked at him for a long time. Azula did too, cutting glances between them. It was Uncle, so he probably was honestly trying to help them, but both of them were too used to Father and Grandfather to trust it implicitly.

Mother turned to her. “Do you want to go?”

_Will you leave this place with me?_

Azula smiled. “Yes.”

They left the village the next morning. Plenty of people watched from their windows as they said their goodbyes to Uma and those that felt obliged to wish them well.

“Sorry for the trouble, I can’t imagine this makes you popular with your neighbors. But thank you for allowing me to stay the night,” Uncle said, bowing politely. “And thank you for the food, it was delicious.”

Uma laughed heartily and handed them a bag. “Here’s some road worthy food. Not nearly as good as freshly cooked, but it’ll keep you until you reach your men.” Delight lit up Uncle’s face and Azula had to laugh.

Mother smiled and thanked Uma, hugging her goodbye. “Hopefully the next time we meet won’t be under such circumstances.”

“Indeed,” Uma replied, offering a rueful smile. She turned her attention to Azula and said, “I have something for you.” She held out a fabric bundle. It was heavier than it looked and softer than any of the blankets they had with them. “It’s a bit old but still ought to help you sleep better.”

Azula thanked her. She tried not to flush at the thought that everyone knew she still had nightmares. It had been embarrassing enough when Mili had taken pity on her.

(Uma watched them go until she could no longer make them out in the early morning light. The sun broke over the hills in the east and lit up the mountains in all their glory. It was a good sign on such a morning. She prayed Agni would watch over the child and her mother.)

Thirty years he’d spent on the battlefield as a surgeon and fifteen more he’d served as a doctor to the elites of the Fire Nation. From start to finish, his least favorite and greatest achievement was to repair burns with little to no scarring.

However, nothing in those forty five years had prepared him for the challenge his son Lao sent to him in the hands of an inferior ‘medic.’

 _Please do everything you can for him_ , Lao’s letter—more of a note or memo really—had read.

When the body had arrived, he’d had to excuse himself and splash water in his face. Even now, the image was burned into his memory and made him nauseous. No child should have a burn that deep or large.

But this one did.

Sleepless nights full of toil, of not knowing if it would be enough, were finally paying off. The boy stirred, ever so slightly. There would still be a scar, or rather the shadow of one, on his neck as long as he lived. He might not ever be able to speak again. But he was alive, and no longer in serious pain.

Shun looked down into terrified eyes. “It’s alright now, you’re safe here,” he told him. The boy made to speak but nothing came out. He clutched at his throat, where fresh bandages hid the healing wound. Shun took hold of his hands and said, “It will take time. Give it time to heal fully before you try to speak.”

The boy’s lips trembled but he blinked away the tears before they could form and carefully looked around.

To answer the unasked question, “You’re currently in the Fire Nation. This is a small village on the southern coast. I’m the. . . town doctor basically. Retired from official service.”

The boy gestured to his bandages with a question in his eyes.

“What happened?” A small nod. “I don’t know. You were sent here by my son Lao, who lives in Caldera. He didn’t give me any information about the situation.”

The name must have jogged something in the boy’s memory. He started crying.

As someone who’d spent more time on the battlefield than with his family until they were much older, Shun was at a loss. He hadn’t been around at all for Lao’s childhood. How did one comfort a crying child?

Numa came running, even though the boy wasn’t making much noise at all (she always seemed to know when someone was upset). She nuzzled the boy’s hand gently to let him know she was there and carefully licked his face.

“Dogs really are some of the best medicine,” Shun muttered, smiling. He rose from the position he’d occupied all night and went to warm some broth he’d saved for this.

It took a few days, but the boy was now up and about. He was still forbidden from helping with any strenuous work, but he’d insisted on learning anything the villagers were willing to teach him (mostly by following them around and watching). The ones he spent the most time with were a deaf old man, Gyuu, and Numa.

Gyuu, who taught him both how to communicate without words and to cook, was a very patient teacher and rather enjoyed the rapt attention he received from the voiceless kid.

One day, one of the other villagers came up to Shun and asked, “Are we keeping him?”

Shun eyed him. “Would you want to?”

“A couple people have already mentioned to me that they want to if he doesn’t have a family that wants him back. And I agree. He’s a sweet kid. And brings out the joy in everyone. Most of us haven’t had a kid around for years.”

Shun sighed. “If, and only if, he doesn’t have a place to call home. Yes. I think we should keep him.”

Numa barked her agreement as she trotted off to find the topic of conversation stirring up the livestock as she raced past them.

“That reminds me, what’s his name?”

Shun startled. Lao hadn’t mentioned it and neither had the kid. “I. . . don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask for his name?!” demanded Miyuki, one of the elder women. She glared at Shun as she passed and followed Numa, still carrying her basket of fish.

She found the boy sitting beside the old badger dog, washing off dishes that she guessed belonged to Gyuu. He jumped slightly when Numa rubbed her head against him, but she was insistent and leaned fully against him.

It had been so long since she’d seen the dog acting like a puppy.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked.

He startled and jumped to his feet, nearly dropping the bowl in his hands. The bandages and gauze still covered him from chin to shoulders.

“Sorry, sorry,” she chuckled. “No need to worry, kiddo. No one here’s going to hurt you.”

He put the bowl down gently and made halting motions with his hands. _You are Miyuki, right?_

“Yes I am. Remind me, what is your name?”

He froze. Her heart ached at the sight. “You do. . . have one, right?”

 _My name is—_ he paused, hands aloft, and sighed— _whatever you want to call me._

Miyuki swore to herself that if she ever met his parents or whoever, she would slap them hard enough to knock their teeth out. She must have shown her anger on her face because the boy was frantically trying to make coherent sentences.

He gave up on signing and knelt down to write in the dirt. _I have a name it’s just that I don’t want you guys to get in trouble_ , it read.

“Oh, so it’s a fugitive situation? I see. Then. . . we’ll call you Li. It’s a common enough name.” She watched the tension leave him slowly. She showed him how to write and sign the name and helped him finished the dishes. She told him about her children who were off fighting for the Fire Nation and how much she missed them.

 _He really likes stories_ , Gyuu had told her yesterday. He hadn’t been kidding. Li listened with intensity. It was a little unnerving. It was those eyes. She’d lived her whole life in this and surrounding villages. She’d never seen eyes that color before.

So she focused on the fish she was cleaning and told him about some of the other villagers and their greatest and most humorous moments.

When she told him about how her husband fell flat on his face when she agreed to marry him, she heard a short raspy laugh.

It turned into a coughing fit and she turned to see small flecks of blood coming from his mouth.

Panic flooded her. She scooped him up and carried him to Shun’s house, Numa hot on her heels. Many people saw this, and it sent near the whole village into worry.

It was now Shun’s turn to glare at her as he took the startled boy from her arms. “What did you do?”

She wheezed. It took a moment before she got her breath back. It had been years since she’d had to run while carrying a child. “I was telling him a story and he laughed. It made him cough and there was blood—”

“Numa, please escort Miyuki out.” The badger dog obediently nudged her legs and pushed her out. She sat down on the porch and listened to Shun talking in a low voice to Li. She couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was not panicked or particularly worried at all.

That was good.

They walked a bit longer than they would normally each day to make up for the distance the army had put between them. Azula was fine with this because Uncle made up for it with firebending lessons in the evenings. Uncle was as patient as her tutors never were.

After lessons, she would curl up under the blanket Uma had given her. She’d been right; Azula slept deeply each night. All in all, it was exhausting but oddly fun.

They caught up with the army after three days.

Travelling with the army was a bit strange. Azula hadn’t listened to someone speak with a helmet on in nearly three months. It rang in a way that was, frankly, a bit unsettling. In fact the last time had been the night they left Caldera and even then, the guard had removed his helmet when he’d asked her for permission to give Zuko up to Agni’s flames.

“There’s a report, General, from an outpost,” said the faceless man. He held out a scroll to Uncle, who broke the seal and read its contents with all the emotion of someone checking the weather.

“It doesn’t affect us,” Uncle told him. “Thank you.” The soldier bowed and left. When he was gone, Uncle looked at Mother and said, “It seems the Fire Lord sent Ozai after you. He was spotted landing on Earth Kingdom shores about six weeks ago.”

Mother closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “I hope he doesn’t hurt the family we were travelling with.”

Azula felt sick. “Do you think he’ll find them?”

“There’s a chance he will,” Uncle told her. “There’s a chance we’ll run into him too.”

She spent the night worrying about Mili. Worrying about Sun Feng and Yu and Grandfather. She prayed to any Spirit that might listen that they would be safe. That she would see them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Back when I first posted Chapter 3, I had intended to actually have Zuko be dead. However, as I've continued, I came to the conclusion that our baby turtleduck did not deserve that kind of treatment. Ergo, Lao rescued him upon realizing that he was still (if only barely) alive.


	6. Miyuki and Numa vs. Captain Muttonchops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt your regularly scheduled "Ozai Sucks" broadcast to remind you that he is not the only one.

Business as usual began at sunrise with a hungry eleven year old making breakfast. Shun glanced in the kitchen (just to make sure everything was going well) before beginning his daily rounds of the house. Dusting, mopping, everything that might require attention.

Miyuki stopped by as usual too, bringing freshly baked bread to accompany whatever Li was making. Shun hadn’t had such a regular schedule since he’d returned from the battlefield.

The sense of déjà vu bothered him.

“Li,” he asked, once breakfast was well under way, “why are you always awake by sunrise?”

It was that unsettling accuracy that made him wonder. It made sense that he would be up early on the nights he suffered nightmares, but it was every day without fail.

The boy rasped out one word that sent Shun’s stomach gurgling. “Bending.”

The boy had golden eyes. He could be nothing but Fire Nation, so if he was a bender. . . Li, who’d arrived with a burn clear down to his windpipe, was a _firebender_. The implications of that were not something Shun wanted to think about.

Miyuki must have made the connection too. She offered a small smile to the boy, always avoiding eye contact (he couldn’t blame her there). “Well, it’s good having a set time to get up. Us old people tend to waste the day away otherwise.”

Li smiled. He was still using signs for longer conversations but Shun was pleased with how well he was healing.

“Oh, Tamari asked if you still wanted to learn fishing,” Miyuki recalled. “She said she’s going out today. Should be leaving soon,” she added, looking at the sky.

Li nodded, smiling wider. He finished his food and, after dropping the bowl off in the sink, ran off to join the group gathering by the dock.

Miyuki turned to Shun now. “Have you written Lao yet?”

“I have not. I. . . as you mentioned, Li is likely a fugitive or else supposed to be dead. I’ve been putting it off to figure out how best to approach the problem.”

“How about: the package you sent was received and was loved by the whole village. Wouldn’t mean anything to anyone but him.” She raised an eyebrow at him, criticizing his tendency to procrastinate in favor of perfectionism as usual.

“And now I recall the reason I fell for you in the first place.” He did not meet her eyes as he said it. She had had every reason to leave in the wake of his return from service. In fact, he hadn’t been sober until two years ago, and had proceeded to bury himself in helping the villages on the edges of the country. They hadn’t spent any time together until Li had been dropped into their laps.

“Yes, you always were useless at letter writing,” she mused. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Useless at anything other than medicine and star charts. But none of the other young men who asked me to marry them were quite so gentle and sweet or fell on their faces in embarrassment when I said yes.”

Shun sputtered and flushed red. “That was over fifty years ago!”

“I know.” She grinned mischievously. “Li thought it was hilarious too.”

“You told him?!”

“I didn’t say it was _you_ , I just told him that my husband fell flat on his face in the mud.”

Shun huffed and turned his face away. He finished his bowl and gathered all the empty dishes, hauling them to the sink were he could clean and not look at her.

“You’ve done a good job with Li, though.” He didn’t respond. “And you are an excellent doctor.”

“But a terrible person.”

“What?”

“I never told you how I learned to treat burns the way I do. I. . . still haven’t paid that debt.”

She stood and came to stand next to him. “What happened?”

His skin crawled at the thought of it. “War doesn’t justify anything I’ve done, but I didn’t learn that until I left. Burns aren’t as common on our side, but they do happen. Especially in training. In order to find the most effective treatment, I experimented on Earth Kingdom prisoners who’d suffered burns in the battles.”

Silence fell between them. He was finished with the dishes before either of them spoke again.

“That’s why you drank so much.” She was talking more to herself than him. She wouldn’t look at his face. “Are you going to use those skills to help the Earth Kingdom?”

The question made him stop and stare at her. “You think they’d trust a Fire Nation doctor? Let alone someone like me?”

“It might be worth a shot.”

Shun spent a long time contemplating her words while he made his rounds in the nearby villages. It was the season for minor colds among the elderly, so his hands were full with that. But maybe, just maybe, she was right.

When he returned home that evening, Numa was barking and snapping through the door at something on the porch.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” said an unfamiliar voice. “I was told this was the house of a doctor Shun. Are you him?”

“I am. Do you need medical help?”

“No, no.” The voice drew closer. The light of his lantern illuminated the face and the first thing his eyes landed on were thick, dark brown muttonchops. Then his gaze moved over the rest of the face. The eyes were friendly if a bit unyielding.

“What can I do for you then?”

“I merely have a few questions for you. Would you mind if I had dinner with you?”

“Of course,” Shun told him, leading the way inside. He shooed Numa away from the door and allowed the man inside. “Might I ask what your name is, sir?”

“Ah, forgive me. My name is Zhao. I am a captain in the Navy.”

“Captain Zhao then,” Shun said, placing some food on the table and sitting down, “how can I help you?”

“You are the father of a palace guard named Lao, are you not?”

“I am. Has something happened to him?” he asked, fear bubbling up in his stomach.

“Well, it seems he sent you something. Something important. An apprentice to the palace physician informed us that he suspects it was something stolen or else an act of treason.” He held up a hand to placate any worried questions. “This is merely a standard procedure. Your son has served for years without any complaint made against him. I simply have to inspect whatever he sent you to confirm or deny the apprentice’s story.”

Numa gave a low growl but she stayed on her bed and watched the men at the table.

Regardless of this man’s apparent sincerity, Shun couldn’t in good conscience tell him about Li. “I was sent a letter. It was the first I’d heard from him in. . . about five years, I think. It might take me a minute to find it.” He rose and Zhao offered a smile.

It was a distinctly less friendly smile. “It was an object. Something large, wrapped in a blanket. There was a letter, but that is of less import to me than the object.”

Shun stared at him. “I’m afraid I received no such object.”

“Nothing but the letter?”

“Nothing but the letter,” he confirmed.

“Very well, then sit down and eat. If you didn’t get whatever it was, then we’re done with the questions.” Zhao took up the utensils and ate, not bothering to wait for Shun to decide.

So, Shun sat down and ate. It was a tense silence, but not dreadful. He’d lied to officers before. Lied to nobility before. The only person he’d ever met that he couldn’t lie to was Miyuki and she wasn’t here to call him on it.

Numa barked. A warning. He looked at her and saw her staring at the door.

“Something wrong?” Zhao asked.

“I’ll check.” He got up and went to the door. No one was there. He looked back at Numa, then Zhao, and shrugged. “Did you come here alone?”

“I did. Well, my men are waiting on my ship, but I came alone into this village.”

“Hmm.” He looked at Numa. “Go get it.” She bolted out the door and disappeared into the night.

“Will she be able to handle it if it’s a large animal?” Zhao asked, genuinely curious.

“She’s old, but she is a badger dog. They don’t lose to anything other than benders,” Shun informed him.

“I see.”

Zuko sat in the crook of a tree branch that extended over Gyuu’s house. Numa’s bark had warned him not to open the door but he had no idea who that voice belonged to. Better safe than sorry, though.

Numa’s whine made him look down. She wagged at him and whined again so he shimmied down to the ground. Gyuu must have seen them because he joined them at the tree’s base.

 _I thought you were headed home_ , Gyuu signed.

 _I was, but someone was there_ , he replied. He scratched Numa’s head and she leaned her whole body weight against him. He stumbled backwards and landed on his backside. She promptly laid her head on his lap and refused to move.

Gyuu smiled and sat next to them. _She loves kids. It has been years since she acted this way._

_Where are the other kids? There are only old people here._

_Gone to war or killed by sickness before Shun came back. Others moved away to earn money._

Zuko furrowed his brow. So that was why everyone here was so lonely. He asked, _Do you have kids?_

 _No._ Gyuu’s smile turned rueful. _Never married._

Numa huffed until Zuko started petting her again. Then the wind picked up and she leapt to her feet with a growl. The white strip of her fur rose in a long line along her spine.

Gyuu got up and pulled Zuko into his house. They were carefully quiet. Numa continued to stand guard outside, her eyes boring into the dark that was only broken by a large lantern flame.

No, that wasn’t a lantern.

A man in Navy armor walked towards Numa and scanned the surroundings. “Did you find it?” he asked her. Zuko really did not like his voice. There was something about it that reminded him of Azula’s teasing and Father’s mockery. In spite of Numa’s warning rumbles, he walked towards the door. “Anyone home?”

Zuko signed the question and asked what they should do. Gyuu pointed to a basket and Zuko climbed inside. It was just barely big enough to hide him. He couldn’t see out, but he could hear Gyuu opening the door.

“Ah, do you mind if I take a look inside?” By the sound of the footsteps, he didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyone else here?” There was some shuffling as the man rooted around the house. “Tell me, has the doctor had a young boy living with him in this village?”

Gyuu didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer.

“Old man, I am an officer of the Navy. You will answer my question.” His voice made the hair on the back of Zuko’s neck stand on end. He’ll hurt Gyuu! He peeked slowly over the edge of the basket to get a better gauge on the situation.

The Navy man had Gyuu’s collar in his hand and was pulling up. “Speak!”

“He’s deaf, sir.” Zuko rasped out the words after some difficulty. “He can’t understand you.”

The man’s cold eyes fixed on him. “Well, if it isn’t the little prince who’s supposed to be dead.”

Zuko’s skin crawled. This man had the same eyes. His throat constricted like Father’s hand was still there.

The enemy took a step towards him and Zuko bolted. He heard, rather than saw, Numa rush past him and bite the soldier. Loud curses followed him out the door and into the night. He hazarded a look back and stopped dead.

Gyuu’s house was on fire. Numa whined and ran a ways, limping badly.

Zuko’s hands shook. Gyuu. The man’s smiling face flashed in his mind. His eyes riveted to the flames, he took one halting step forward. Then another. And another. Soon he was running, terror clamped tightly around his neck and gut.

He burst through the door. The soldier was gone. Gyuu was on the floor, unmoving. Zuko coughed away the smoke and grabbed the old man by his arms.

It took forever and left him breathless, but he was able to drag the man out of the burning building.

“Li! What happened?” Miyuki was here. Some of the other villagers were here. He collapsed and coughed, tears streaming down from the smoke and relief.

Shun knelt next to Gyuu. “Was it that soldier?”

Zuko nodded.

“So you were lying after all.”

Zuko jumped to his feet, breathing ragged. The man had lost a sizable chunk from his arm but looked otherwise unharmed. His eyes burned with fury as he stared down at Shun.

“I felt it prudent, since I did not know what kind of man you were. It seems I was right to lie.” Shun stood between Zuko and the man. Miyuki joined him and glared at the firebender.

“Do you have any idea of who that child is?”

“No, Captain Zhao. Nor do I care,” Shun spat. “Anyone who is willing to harm one of his own people for petty reasons has no business being near a child.”

“Petty reasons?” Zhao smirked. “That’s Fire Prince Ozai’s son. His death was ordered by the Fire Lord himself, but he escaped with the help of a palace guard, who will no doubt be tried and executed for treason.”

Shun’s entire body tensed. “Did the Fire Lord also demand that he should be burned to death?”

“The manner was up to Prince Ozai’s discretion.”

Shun whirled on Zuko, who flinched but did not take a step back. But the doctor’s voice was soft. “Your _father_ did that to you?”

Zuko didn’t meet his eyes. He hid his hands so no one would see them shake. Miyuki laid her hand, ever so gently, on his head.

Zhao laughed. “Save your pity for someone who deserves it. Hand him over and I won’t have to kill anyone here.”

Zuko waited. It had been inevitable. No one here was going to protect him. They had no reason to.

“Go to hell.”

His head shot up. Miyuki’s grip tightened, but not maliciously. Her eyes were fixed on Zhao, who looked taken aback.

“What?” he asked, echoing Zuko’s thoughts.

“Go. To. Hell,” she repeated. “Leave this place. And if you ever come back, I’ll skin you alive and leave you for the scavengers.” Her voice was level and menacing. In the firelight, her frizzy hair looked like a halo.

Zhao blinked. He backed away, confusion all over his face, and left.

Once he was gone, Miyuki released a long breath and sank to her knees. “That was terrifying.”

Shun laughed. “Woman, you are something else.” Then he knelt by Gyuu and assessed the damage. “Looks like he was only knocked out. The smoke will have done more damage than anything else.”

 _Will he be alright?_ Zuko asked.

“Yeah. What about you? How are you holding up?”

Zuko met his eyes and wiped away the tears that still hadn’t really stopped. _I’m okay_ , he signed.

The other villagers busied themselves with putting the fire out while Shun and Miyuki took Gyuu and Zuko to Shun’s house.

Once everything settled down some, Zuko asked, _Where is Numa?_

The badger dog didn’t return when called. Li (who was apparently royalty) kept glancing out the window. Shun asked a few of the others (the younger ones, just in case they had to carry her) to go look for her. Miyuki sat with the boy and talked, telling stories about her younger years and all the antics Lao had gotten up to as a child.

It seemed to ease his nerves.

Prince Ozai’s son. Here in his house. Shun chuckled quietly. It was a bit hard to believe, but considering Lao’s secrecy, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“You should get to bed. We’ll wake you if—when Numa gets back.”

Miyuki shot him one of those _Are you serious_ glares, but Li nodded and went to bed.

“Thank you for your help out there,” Shun told her.

She smiled. “The whole village agreed that we should look after him.”

“But none of them were prepared to stake their lives on it.”

“You were.”

He couldn’t argue there. “Do you think we should warn Lao that the secret’s out?”

She nodded. “I’ll write to him. I assume you still haven’t sent the other letter?”

He chuckled. “Haven’t even written it.”

She smiled again and rose to get the paper and necessary tools. Comfortable silence fell between them and she wrote by lamp light while he read a book, both filling the time as they waited for news of their dog.

News came in the form of several men hustling up to the door and saying, “We found her, but you’ll need to come with us.”

“What happened?” he asked them.

“She’s holed up in a cave. Growls at everyone who got near. She sounds like she’s hurt bad.” Shun rushed out, Miyuki (who had nursed Numa’s injuries when she was a pup) was right behind him.

It did not occur to them that they should have left someone behind to watch the house.


	7. The Best Birthday Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, second to last chapter. Yay! ("Chapter 9" will be an epilogue =D)

Zuko woke to a large hand clamped over his mouth.

No. No no no no no no.

He flailed his arms, trying to grab hold of the arm that held him down. He was back in his bedroom, but Father had a different face and wasn’t strangling him. Father grabbed his arms and pinned him down fully.

“Keep quiet, Prince Zuko, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

He fought harder. He kneed his attacker as hard as he could anywhere he could reach. Father grunted and slammed the back of Zuko’s head into the floor.

Everything went dark.

When next he woke he was chained, ankles and wrists, and slung over the back of a saddle as one might tie down a sack. His head throbbed and his throat still felt like he’d eaten a pound of fire flakes. He looked behind them. The early morning sun illuminated the road that lead back to the village. They were headed for the harbor. Zuko didn’t want to think, but some part of him knew he had to get away before they reached the harbor.

Where’s Azula when you need her? He groaned.

“Finally awake, then?”

The soldier. What had Shun called him? Captain Zhao?

“When we reach my ship, I expect I won’t have to threaten you or put you in the brig. Good behavior gets you a guarantee of safety, understand?”

Zuko grunted, trying to weasel his little lock pick out of his sleeve without alerting his captor. Ryouta had made him swear he wouldn’t tell Shun if he taught him how to use it, so it was still hidden on his person. Zuko silently thanked Agni for such mercy.

The man was talking again, but Zuko was slipping his cuffs off as silently as possible and hanging them on the saddle so they’d still sound like he was there. He did the same for his feet, though that was a lot harder to do quietly.

The wind picked up, rattling the leaves and branches of the forest on either side. It was now or never.

Heart pounding in his ears, he grit his teeth and slipped off the saddle. Pain shot from the soles of his feet to his knees, but he bit off the cry that threatened. The rider and mount continued on, unaware of the change (or at least, the man rambling on about how great he was hadn’t noticed). The rhino lizard must have noticed but was not about to complain of an ever-so-slightly lightened load.

He hadn’t been wearing shoes when the man had taken him from the village, so he’d have to make his way barefoot. He stood and crept into the tree line, every footfall felt like fire and he was sure to get caught.

Then a real problem reared its poison tail at him.

He froze, a large scorpion rat stared him down, body poised for an attack. He backed up, one step at a time, small branches snapping beneath his feet. Apparently, because of the wind, the crackling was not enough to warn the soldier.

The scent of blood reached his nose, and he hazarded a glance down. The rocks and thorns and other sharp things had cut up his feet when he landed. The little menace staring at him with beady eyes was sniffing excitedly.

He stepped back farther, the beast keeping a steady distance from him.

With a squeal, the scorpion rat lunged and Zuko tripped backwards in an effort to avoid the tail and teeth. Fire erupted between him and the rat, stealing the air from his lungs. He looked around for the source. The soldier stood over him, fist aimed at the remains of the animal. Zuko scrambled back, desperate to get as far from the flames as possible. The man was lightning quick and grabbed him by his collar.

He said nothing as he relocked the shackles and sat Zuko in front of him where it would be near impossible to escape. Zuko was still shaking and having difficulty breathing right.

He prayed that Agni would take him before Father did.

Azula hid under the blanket. Mother was still trying to coax her out, though with less effort than she might have showed prior to their leaving the palace.

“I know you don’t want to think about it right now, but you should at least eat.” Mother stroked her hair.

“What’s the matter?” Uncle asked, his voice low but unmistakably curious.

“It’s her birthday today.”

“She was always excited about that from what I remember. Though, I’ll admit it has been quite some time since the last party I attended.”

Azula buried her face farther into the little nest she’d made. “Things are different now.” Zuzu isn’t here. Lu Ten isn’t here. Neither of them will ever get any older.

“Would you like some tea?” Uncle asked her. “It might help you feel a little better.”

She took the time to shoot him a glare.

“I would like some, if you don’t mind,” Mother said. Uncle sat with them and brewed the tea himself. Azula watched him with interest. He wasn’t using bending, and he looked so peaceful doing it. The aroma filled the tent.

“What kind is it?” she asked.

“Jasmine. It’s a calming tea I enjoy.”

She tried some of Mother’s. Huh. “It’s nice.”

“Would you like some?”

“. . . Yes please.” She sat with them and they just. . . drank tea. She could almost forget that two people were missing from this little gathering. But the ever present stillness that had settled over Uncle would always remind her.

“General!” A soldier stood just outside the tent and said, “Fire Prince Ozai and his men are here.”

Azula stilled. Mother shot Uncle a look of terror.

“Not to worry. Stay here while I talk to him.” Uncle rose and followed the soldier. Azula laid a hand on the hilt buried in her sash. Father was here. Mother grabbed hold of her other hand and took a deep breath. Her eyes were fixed on the door.

“How many men do you think he has with him?” Azula asked.

“Since he was tracking us, likely not more than a ship’s crew.”

“I want to go look.”

“Azula, no! If they spot you—”

“They won’t. Promise. I just want to see.”

Mother bit the inside of her lip. Without another word, she rose and Azula changed into her day clothes. They snuck towards the commotion that was likely to be Father. The soldiers noticed and one stepped in front of them, walking towards the crowd. He provided an excellent visual barrier.

They got to where they could see easily and Azula had to stifle a laugh.

Father looked rather stupid. His beard was patchy and his hair, though carefully combed, was short in odd places. It looked like he’d torn out his own hair.

“. . . have not seen either of them, I’m afraid. Do you need supplies or men for your trip?” Uncle was saying. He looked genuinely concerned for Father, which Azula would have to praise him for later.

Father was in that mood that meant nothing would please him, regardless of what was said or done. He sneered at Uncle. “I don’t need anything from a disgraced General, or these pathetic excuses for soldiers.”

Uncle’s face settled into blatant disapproval. “These men have fought well and earned a rest from war. We have lost many men and I will not allow you to slander them.” The navy men standing a ways behind Father nodded in satisfaction. One even smiled, like he was enjoying seeing Uncle chastise his brother.

Father’s eyes lit up with fury. Azula’s hair stood on end.

A long whip of fire curled through the air and struck one of Uncle’s men (probably someone else who’d smiled). Uncle grabbed Father’s wrist and doused the flames like they were nothing but smoke.

Father apparently couldn’t stand it any longer. He struck out at Uncle, who parried it. (When did he get so out of control? He’d never acted so brashly before.)

Uncle never struck back, but he dodged and blocked, letting Father exhaust himself. Azula watched them carefully. Watching two masters duel was a rare privilege.

Father stepped back. He was breathing hard, staring at Uncle like he’d never seen him before.

This was her chance.

“Father!” she called, feigning joy as she slipped out from behind the soldier who’d been providing cover. Everyone turned to her, shock and disbelief in equal measure. Mother called her name, but she continued towards him.

Father looked surprised, but he smiled triumphantly as she ran up to him.

The look faded to shock and fear. She drew back, bright red blood coating Zuko’s knife. Everything around them stilled. She caught his right arm and ripped the sleeve off as he stumbled. There was the bandage she’d known would be there.

He stared at her, betrayal etched into his eyes.

She smiled at him, honey on her tongue and hatred in her eyes. “Goodbye, Father. Thank you for all your lessons.” She offered a mocking bow. “Oh, and make sure you beg Zuko for forgiveness when you get to the other side.”

The inner fire behind his eyes guttered and extinguished. His body slumped to the ground.

“Azula,” Mother started. When Azula turned, she saw a strange mix of fear and pride.

“I needed to. Sorry I lied earlier.”

Mother hugged her tight. “I know. I understand, but please, be more careful.”

Tears came then. She couldn’t stop them. It was over. Even if they could never go home, Mother was here, Uncle was still there for them, and Father would never haunt their steps ever again. She hid her face in Mother’s shoulder and cried.

 _I did it, Zuzu. I kept my promise_.

Jee may very well have never had a better day in his life. He exchanged looks with the rest of his crewmates. They all had the same mix of elation and mild terror.

“So. . . what are we going to tell the Fire Lord?” Kyo asked, speaking for all of them.

General Iroh set his face grimly. “Anyone who asks will be given the same answer: Prince Ozai was struck down by illness in the Earth Kingdom. We gave him a burial and returned home.”

Those gathered nodded, committing the lie to memory.

They buried Prince Ostrich Cow (no one was particularly keen on giving him a proper funeral pyre, not even the General). They spent the rest of the day marching homeward.

Jee approached the Princesses, cautious but resolute. “If I may,” he said, getting their attention, “I would like to inform you of an incident involving your village.”

Princess Ursa met his eyes, and he knew she could guess what he was about to tell her. “How many did he kill?” she asked, voice barely level.

“Only one of our men outright,” he assured her. “Many villagers were injured, but our doctor treated who he could, and we were told a renowned doctor lived in the next village over that they could ask for help.”

She nodded, still worried but less than before. “Thank you.”

“It is us that should thank you,” he replied. He looked at Princess Azula and bowed deeply. “We are in your debt.”

The crew was later requisitioned to escort the Princesses to the village. They left the General’s entourage on the coast of the Fire Nation. (General Iroh had also pointed out that they should return with the news of Ozai’s death after the army was back in the capital. The captain was eager to comply.)


	8. To Kill a Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all know how much I appreciate you reading this. Thank you, commenters, for your support and enthusiasm. And a special thanks to those of you who've been here since the start. All of you rock!

Coming home to find out the child he’d sort of adopted was gone had to be the most stressful moment in Shun’s entire existence. Any villager capable of walking and calling his name was mobilized to search for Li.

Zhao had said his ship was docked, so they concentrated on the coasts. Miyuki even managed to convince some people from other villages to help, giving them Li’s description and the basic assumption: kidnapped by a Fire Nation soldier. Some people refused to help on principle, but the village that had been attacked by Fire Prince Ozai himself (may he be eaten by something large and mean) were more than willing.

Shun was about to fall to pieces when someone ran around shouting about a Fire Navy ship docked nearby. Everyone rushed over, expecting a fight (that they would likely lose).

They lost before it began.

The ship was sailing away, smokestacks billowing and belching. Miyuki grabbed hold of him and wept. They had no way of catching up, let alone board and fight off who knows how many firebenders. Shun wrapped his arms around her and wept too, praying that the Spirits would allow Li to survive.

They reached Mother’s village around noon. Azula was busy listening to the crew recounting how Father had lost his hair to an ostrich cow. Azula had never met an ostrich cow, but she’d seen ostrich horses during her travels in the Earth Kingdom.

“Oh, believe me,” Helmsman Kyo told her, “ostrich horses are nice. If trained right they’re good and friendly. Ostrich cows, on the other hand, are as mean as Prince Ozai. They’re even known to eat people who make them mad.”

“To bad she didn’t eat Father then.”

“We felt the same way,” Lieutenant Jee informed her, “but I dare say it would have given you less closure. How are you holding up, anyway? First kills can be rough.”

“I don’t regret it,” she replied honestly. “But it was definitely different than I’d imagined.”

Most of them nodded and some even told her about their own first kills.

“We’re here,” the captain announced as they cleared the bend in the road. Everyone fell silent. Fresh lumber and ashes littered the earth, and it seemed the whole village was at work rebuilding.

Someone noticed them and gave a shout. Angry faces turned to them, tools raised like weapons. Azula could hardly blame them, but she still situated herself between them and Mother. The crew could handle themselves.

“You’re back!” cried a little girl as she ran up to the lieutenant, stopping everyone in their tracks.

Jee stared at her in surprise for a moment before recognition flit across his face. “Ah, yes. We actually came back to help. You see, the Fire Prince is dead.”

Whispers floated around the crowd as it drew closer.

“Yuki, who is this man?” asked an elderly, but tall and thin man. People parted to let him through.

“This is the soldier who helped me, doctor. You know, the one who helped put out the fires?” The latter part was addressed to the village at large. Several nods confirmed her story as the adults got a closer look.

“The rest were all here too, by the look of it.”

“Yes, and we apologize sincerely for not being able to stop him from doing this.” The captain bowed with due respect and the crew followed suit.

“And I apologize for dragging you all into a family quarrel,” Mother said, meeting the eyes of those gathered.

“. . . Ursa?” A woman, upright but obviously weary with age, approached them and looked at Mother. “It _is_ you. Oh my dear daughter,” she cried, both literally and figuratively.

“I’m so sorry it’s been so long, Mother,” Mother said, hugging her fiercely. Azula had only ever received gifts from her grandmother. Seeing her in person, she saw much of Mother’s face. Mother turned and beckoned her forward. “This is Azula.”

Grandmother looked startled. So startled, the first words out of her mouth were, “She looks like _him_.”

Mother stiffened. “She has his eyes, yes. But that is where the resemblance stops.”

“Ah, of course. It was just. . .”

“Ursa?” This time it was a man, about the same age as Grandmother.

“Father! I’m so glad to see you.”

He crossed his arms. “Why, pray tell, have you not been writing letters for nearly two years?”

Mother’s face fell. “Ozai interfered in our correspondence. He refused to let me contact you. He had even been trying to separate me from the children.” Grandmother and Grandfather both sputtered in anger at such atrocities.

The other villagers expressed similar views: “No wonder you left!” “I hope he never reincarnates!” “Bet you’re glad to be rid of him.”

Mother chuckled dryly. “I have no illusions about him being reborn.”

Azula noticed a peculiar expression on the doctor’s face but he kept quiet.

The crew dispersed and began working beside the villagers. Mother worked beside her parents and a man that Azula had not been introduced to and caught up on all the news. Azula and the other kids ran tools to people who needed them and played in the streets.

After a short while, the doctor came up to her and asked a strange question. “Do you have a brother?”

She glared at the ground. “Not anymore. Father saw fit to take him away.”

“This will sound rude, but I just need to confirm,” he continued, wringing his hands, “was he about eleven years old? Same eyes as you?”

Azula froze. She looked up at him, finding sad and fearful eyes. “What do you know about it?” she demanded.

“Your brother was brought to my village, which is a ways around that mountain,” he gestured to the peak looming above them. “My son is a palace guard and he sent him to me. When he arrived, he had a large, deep burn on his throat. I treated him.”

The ground gave way beneath her. “Is he alive?” Her eyes and throat burned with oncoming tears. “Is he still in your village?”

“He survived the burn.”

Her heart started up again. Fear and rage melded with her bones and dried the tears before they fell. “Where is he?” she hissed, hands shaking.

“A naval captain named Zhao attacked and kidnapped him. We chased them to the harbor but reached it too late.” The doctor shook his head, looking for all the world like a bereaved father. “I don’t know if he is still alive.”

Azula could have slapped him. As it was, she settled for growling, “If you’re lying, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth.” She raced off to talk to Mother.

Mother was having a discussion with another woman. “He never hurt you though?” she asked.

“No, no. He was just drinking and working himself to ruin and I couldn’t stand to watch. I tried helping, I tried having other people talk to him, but he had to get out of it himself.” The other woman smiled fondly. “I know how lucky I am in that regard. Especially since he did get himself out. He’s an excellent doctor, too, however much he may hate it.”

“Is he the doctor who says he treated my brother?” Azula cut in. The woman looked at her and took a full step backwards.

Mother cut glances between them in confusion. “Miyuki, what is she talking about?”

When Miyuki had gotten her words back, she barked a laugh. “If you’re talking about Li—ah, but that isn’t his real name. We did treat a young boy with the same golden eye that you have. A navy man said he was Prince Ozai’s. . . son. . .” It apparently dawned on her just who she was talking with. “You’re his family?” She sounded heartbroken.

“His name is Zuko.” Azula crossed her arms. “That doctor said he was kidnapped from your village.”

“He was.” Miyuki blinked away her tears.

Just who did these people think they were? Fury built up in Azula like someone was shoveling too much coal into a furnace.

“But now that the prince is dead, will he be safe?” Miyuki asked, looking at Mother.

Mother’s face was filled with so much that Azula had trouble picking it apart. But her voice trembled on her next words, words that made Azula’s inner flame gutter. “Unless the Fire Lord is feeling merciful, no.”

“Will you tell me. . . what happened after that night?” Zuko asked, watching Zhao through the cell bars.

Zhao raised an eyebrow at him. “Your mother left the palace. The Fire Lord was understandably furious. He ordered Prince Ozai to go after her,” he replied, bored out of his mind by the sound of it.

“You don’t seem to care about any of it,” he said. “Why are you doing this?”

Zhao laughed. “I do not intend to stay a mere captain of a ship.”

“. . . How does this help you?” Zuko couldn’t see how returning a supposed-to-be-dead prince would move him up in the ranks. Knowing Grandfather even just the little that he did meant knowing that he would only be more furious and likely punish Zhao for impudence or something.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be exposing a traitor in the palace. He won’t be happy to see you and know his son _failed_ to do something so easy as kill a child. However,” he said, smiling wickedly, “Lao will be executed for disobeying orders and general insubordination and _I_ will be recognized for having stopped a plot against His Majesty.”

Zuko leaned back and sighed. He hoped for Zhao’s sake that he was right.

So Mother wasn’t in the palace anymore. Lu Ten was dead and Uncle Iroh was probably still in the Earth Kingdom somewhere. And he was stuck in a ship headed straight for Caldera. Even with Father gone too, it wasn’t likely that he would be safe even if Zhao got what he wanted.

He wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head. This really was not how he wanted to go home.

Wait. He raised his head. “What day is it?”

Zhao rose and walked out, answering over his shoulder as he closed the hallway door and locked it.

Zuko stared at the door. That meant Azula’s birthday had passed a few days ago.

So Azula was officially a year older now. Had she been alone on her birthday? He hoped not. Last he’d seen her—last he’d seen her was that night. She’d been hiding under the blankets. She hadn’t tried to help, but he’d told her not to.

As scary as facing Father alone was, it would be worse knowing he’d gotten her in trouble with Father too.

Was she alone in the palace? No. Most of the servants and guards would look out for her, even if they couldn’t be seen doing it. And Ty Lee and Mai would visit her. They would have been there for her birthday at the very least.

But why hadn’t Mother taken her with? It didn’t feel right.

Doubts persisted through the rest of the night. Zhao had found and confiscated the lockpick, so Zuko searched for anything he could use. Master Piandao was always telling him to use his surroundings to his advantage. But his now bandaged feet were still throbbing and so was his head (though less than before) and his throat ached from talking and he really just wanted to sleep a little. He laid down on the cold floor and tried to rest.

The palace was abuzz. Word had spread quickly. General Prince Iroh was headed home and due to arrive in three days. Maids hurried about, cleaning and preparing. The Prince’s rooms were aired out and freshened. The palace was a forbidding place under Fire Lord Azulon, but there were things they could do to make it more inviting for his arrival.

This also meant that those planning assassination were busy. Finalizing details and organizing themselves into the positions they were meant to occupy. Unfortunately, there was still some dissent over what method they should use.

“I still think we should use poison,” one of the servants was saying.

“I know it’s less direct risk to us,” Lao said, “but we are well aware that he has a high tolerance, and even if we use a strong poison, he’ll likely notice and take it out on whoever serves it to him. May I remind you that the maids who serve him directly are not privy to our plans?”

“He’s right,” another guard put in. “In order to minimize casualties, we have to take him on directly. The night before the Prince arrives, when he’s asleep, we will run him through.”

“And we can’t drug him to sleep deeper for the same reason we can’t poison him,” concluded the one maid who was part of the plans.

The servant scoffed but said nothing. For the first time since they’d started considering this course of action, Lao was nervous.

Azulon sat at his desk, rereading a report by lamplight with a small smile on his face.

He had not expected Iroh home so soon under the circumstances, but it was likely he’d gotten wind of the situation regarding his brother. The reason Ozai had been sent out to bring his heir back was not known outside of the palace, but even so, it would have been enough to spur Iroh on.

The other generals had not been pleased by Iroh’s defeat, but everyone knew that they could have done no better. They would not start trouble.

He frowned. That reminded him, he’d noticed a strange change in the atmosphere of the palace ever since the letter had first arrived. It was different from the whispers that pertained to Ozai. It was a buzz of excitement, but there was something beneath it that unsettled him.

He cleared his desk and filed each document in its proper place. He was regretting his anger towards Shu Li. She would have known the cause for the undercurrent.

No matter, whatever it was, he would deal with it. He readied himself for bed and a maid entered with a water pitcher.

She set it on the table, bowed and asked, “Is there anything else Your Majesty requires tonight?”

“No, that will be all.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. After she left, he sat down on his bed and poured some water into the cup. It tasted more bitter than it should have. He stared down in disbelief. Seventy five years of ruling the Fire Nation should have ensured he never let his guard down enough to be poisoned.

He shouted for a guard and one appeared on command. “Find that maid who served me this water!” The guard didn’t move. Azulon stared at him. He repeated his order, fire on his breath.

“Your Majesty,” the guard replied, unflinching. He left and retrieved the girl. She returned, concerned but not anxious.

“Is there something the matter, Majesty?” she asked. He watched her for a moment. She, he’d learned quick enough, was honest like Zuko had been. Completely unable to lie convincingly. She wasn’t lying now either.

“Who filled the pitcher? Did anyone other than yourself touch it?” he asked her, feeling slightly more at ease.

Her face showed confusion. “Only the kitchen staff. They are responsible for cleaning all dishes. I filled it.” She met his eyes and glanced to the pitcher. “Was there something wrong with the water?”

The cup had been in his rooms all evening, even before she’d arrived. “It is possible the cup itself was poisoned,” he mused aloud, examining the vessel in his hand. “Bring anyone who might have entered this room today and all the staff who might have touched either vessel to my meeting room to be questioned.”

Both bowed and left to complete their tasks.

So this was the undercurrent. They’d been waiting for Iroh’s return to move. Smart. Organized. That meant this plot was lead by one person, albeit someone who’d overlooked his knowledge and tolerance for poison. So not that smart.

He went to his meeting room and waited. The accused filed in, heads bowed. One of them was shifting glances around, looking for a way out. In spite of this, he stared on one end and worked his way over, questioning each to see if he could catch anyone else who might have been involved.

The guard who had answered the call initially stood to one side. Azulon was keeping an eye on him too since he hadn’t reacted right away when he’d ordered him to grab the maid.

In the end, he singled out two of them. The shifty eyed one, a servant who’d freshened his rooms that morning, and a kitchen worker who had washed and set out the vessels for their later use. He dismissed the rest and the faultless maid. The guard remained.

“Now. What is it you have come here to do?” he asked the three before him.

“Majesty, might you elaborate on your question?” asked the kitchen worker.

Azulon said nothing and the flames rose higher.

The guard spoke up now, “If you refer to our purpose in the palace, then I have come to serve you. If you refer to why we stand before you now, then I have come here to assist you in finding whoever dared to poison you.”

The flames sank lower ever so slightly. “What is your name, soldier?”

“Chiro, Majesty.”

“Why then, Chiro, did you hesitate to complete your orders?”

The guard startled softly at the question. “I feared for the maid. She is my sister and I pray your Majesty may forgive my lapse.”

Azulon considered the man before him. “Very well. She is blameless and for your honesty I will pardon you any punishment.” He dismissed the guard and continued, “And the rest of you? Why are you here in this room?”

“Your Majesty,” began the shifty eyed servant, “I am here because I placed the cup on the table this morning after it was washed by the kitchen staff. I understand full well that this makes me suspicious.”

“But you do not believe you are the guilty party?” Azulon asked him, raising an eyebrow in time with the rising of the curtain of flames.

“I am innocent of all knowledge regarding an attempt on your life.”

“Your body betrays you,” Azulon noted, looking at the shaking arms and tremulous breathing.

“I swear, I knew nothing!” The man met his eyes and flinched away. Azulon rose and approached the curtain. The servant fell to his knees and begged forgiveness. “I was asked to do it. A guard who patrols the west wing of the palace! He told us—” The man flinched away from his own words.

“Us?” Azulon’s voice was dangerously calm.

The kitchen worker closed his eyes. “Us. The two of us. I prepared the poison and this idiot placed it where only you would drink from it.”

The servant looked at him dumbly. Azulon called for the guards outside and they took the two traitors away. He would later have them identify the guard who’d ‘told them’ to do it.

The guard admitted under torture that he had given them the instructions. None of them believed anyone else was involved, but even after they were executed, the undercurrent did not dissipate. As a result, he called the captain of the guard to his office.

“Why,” he asked him, “have we been betrayed by so many of the staff? Is it not your job to ensure the safety of this palace?”

The guard met his eyes and bowed slightly. “I admit I missed the plans of the trio you executed yesterday. I was more focused on the plot of General Bujing to place Prince Ozai on the throne. I had entrusted your safety to Chiro, whom you know to be innocent of any connection to the assassins.”

Azulon regarded him quietly. “Very well. Tell me, why have you not informed me of this plot?”

“Accusing a General of such is no lightweight matter. I wanted to ensure I had proof of his connection before I brought it before you.”

The man had the kind of bearing that made men respect him. Even the Generals held him in high regard. Azulon had kept him in this position instead of promoting him because of this. He was trustworthy and that was necessary for Azulon’s peace of mind.

He needed no other proof than this man’s word. “Has he begun to move?”

“He wished to wait until the Prince returned from his mission. Upon hearing of General Prince Iroh’s return he began preparing to move much sooner. I have reason to believe he will also attempt to kill Prince Iroh.”

Azulon leaned back. General Bujing was the type to do such things if he thought it would help him. “Thank you for telling me. Return to your post and send the General in here.”

Captain Lao bowed and left.

The General stood before him in short order. Bujing asked the obvious. “Is there something you require me to do, Your Majesty?”

“I will spare you the humiliation of a public execution. Therefore, I require that you slit your own stomach.”

Bujing’s eyes grew wide and he sputtered, “Your Majesty, what have I done to displease you?”

“My captain of the guard has informed me that you intend to slay my firstborn and likely myself in order to ensure Prince Ozai gains the throne.”

The color drained from Bujing’s face. “You trust a commoners word?” he demanded. He was grasping at straws and he knew it. Lao had served for fifteen years and not once in that time had he been wrong on such matters. (Just like Shu Li, though Azulon discarded that thought.)

“Leave my presence and do your duty as a general of the Fire Nation.”

Bujing glowered and attacked. He should have known better. It was a short fight and Lao returned to drag the writhing fool out of the room and cut his head off.

The undercurrent disappeared and Azulon slept better that night. He could also expect Iroh’s return in the morning to brighten his mood. His seventy five years of reign were not about to end over some fool’s errand like Bujing.

It was now or never. This was the perfect time, with Prince Iroh due to arrive soon and Azulon at ease. He also thanked Agni for the fact that Captain Zhao’s vessel would not arrive until after the Prince’s return. According to his mother’s letter, Prince Zuko was on Zhao’s ship, so it was infinitely better for the Fire Lord to be well dead before the boy was returned to the palace. Lao had met Zhao before and knew he was reckless and ambitious, but even he would know better than to hurt the Prince.

But he still had to wait for the early hours of the morning when he knew Azulon’s sleep would be deepest. He relieved Chiro at the end of his shift at the door and waited ten minutes before unsheathing his blade with deadly silence. Then he removed his helmet, took a deep breath and entered the Fire Lord’s quarters.

The man he’d served faithfully for fifteen years would die by his hand tonight, sleeping peacefully in his bed.

He raised his blade, tip hovering over the old man’s heart, and thrust downward with all his might. Azulon’s breath was shoved out and he woke, looking with terrified and angry eyes at his enemy.

“You were an incredible leader, Fire Lord Azulon,” Lao told him, meeting those eyes. “However, for the sake of ending this war and protecting the Prince I believe worthy of leading this nation, I ask that you die tonight.”

He withdrew the blade from Azulon’s body and watched the fire die. The lantern on the wall guttered and flared out like a great wind had extinguished it.

Two days into the trip, Zuko was bored out of his mind and had taken to reenacting his favorite parts from the plays Mother read to them. His feet were healing slowly, but the cold floor helped some. That was about the only good thing in the cell. It was just too small a space.

On the third day, Zhao came to visit again. He opened the door to the cell and walked in, eyes calculating and cold in a way that no firebender should be.

“Come here.” It was an order so Zuko had to obey, even if every nerve was screaming at him as he did. Zhao grabbed his chin and Zuko froze. His hands shook as the man tugged at the bandages around his neck.

Panic rose like bile and his breathing became erratic. Father’s face was in front of him, eyes alight with malice and fire.

Not again. Never again.

He grabbed Zhao’s arms and dug his nails in with all his meager strength. The man recoiled and flung Zuko against the wall. The bandages trailed to the floor, falling from their place to reveal a red but healing scar outlining the place where Father’s hand had been.

Something in Zhao’s eyes changed. Just for a moment.

Zuko wasn’t sure what it was, but it couldn’t be good. But then Zhao just left. Walked out the door and locked it, dissatisfaction radiating from each step. He’d messed up again and now, even if Zhao couldn’t kill him without serious repercussions, whatever horror was waiting for him in the palace had just gotten worse.

Finally, they reached their destination. When Zhao came for him, Zuko held himself rigid and kept his eyes from meeting his gaze.

“If I allow you to walk beside me without chains will you behave, your Highness?” he asked, hard looking him.

Zuko glanced at him. He had no doubt that Zhao would have his men flanking them and that made escape pretty much impossible. He may be slow, but he wasn’t dumb no matter what Azula said. “I’ll behave. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Indeed. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

They walked off the ship. Zuko’s feet screamed at him but there was no way they’d have shoes on the ship that would fit him (not that shoes would have made it much better in any case). He held himself upright and did his best not to wince every time he put a foot down. Focusing on that task kept him from the dread that would otherwise have overwhelmed him.

It was only on the steps of the palace that it all washed over him. His world started swimming and he nearly stumbled. A heavy but not unkind hand on his shoulder held him steady until the nausea passed.

The helmeted soldier removed his hand and stood aside with the rest as Zhao escorted him up and in through the palace doors. Zuko took a deep breath and swallowed his fear down. So long as it was not Father who stood before him, he could have the courage not to cower.

The palace was. . . oddly inviting inside. It had never looked like this in all of Zuko’s years. It was lighter somehow.

“Zuko?”

Never had that voice felt so much like the first rays of warm sunshine parting the clouds of a storm.

He turned towards it and smiled wide at Uncle. Zhao stiffened beside him but said nothing. Uncle knelt down and looked him over with horror and grief. He did not touch the still not quite healed scar but the way his eyes hardened with anger was worse.

Uncle placed a hand gently on Zuko’s head and asked, “Does it hurt?”

Zuko shrugged. “Not a lot anymore.”

Uncle looked up at Zhao. “I thank you for bringing him home safely. What is your name?”

“Zhao, sir.” Zuko saw disgust in his eyes and it occurred to him that this person was like Father in a lot of ways. That would include his views on Uncle’s defeat, it seemed.

“I will remember that. Come, nephew, let’s clean you up a bit.” Uncle held out a hand and Zuko moved towards it without a second thought. With Uncle’s hand on his shoulder, he left Zhao behind.

The morning sun beat down on the workers. Shun felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asked, turning to look. Gyuu pointed towards the road that ran through the village. Shun followed his gesture and spotted a familiar but unexpected face, surrounded by a few of the women.

“Shun! Get over here!” Miyuki called and he put down his hammer and obeyed.

Lao, the son he hadn’t seen since retiring from his position in the capital, stood there. “Hello, Dad. It’s been a while.”

“It has. It is good to see you.” Shun didn’t think he had the right to hug him, so he held back but he still smiled. Lao looked older than he was, though there was a certain dignity he carried that made Shun wonder at what he’d experienced during his time as a palace guard.

“He was just telling us that a new Fire Lord has been crowned,” Miyuki supplied.

Shun raised his eyebrows. “What happened to Fire Lord Azulon?”

“He was slain by an assassin sent by a disgruntled general,” Lao replied, expression dim. “As captain of the guard, it was my failing. However, Fire Lord Iroh has shown mercy and ordered me to retire.”

Shun’s knees almost gave out. Captain of the guard? He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. “So Zhao was unable to cause you trouble?”

Lao laughed. “He tried. The Fire Lord—Iroh, that is—merely thanked me for rescuing his nephew.” Lao smiled fondly at the memory. “Zhao was a bit disappointed. We were also informed that Prince Ozai fell victim to a sickness on his mission and that the Princesses were safe.”

“Indeed. They left for the capital a few days ago,” Miyuki told him, relief splayed across her face.

“Will Fire Lord Iroh continue the war?” one of the others asked. Everyone looked at Lao, hope and dread mingling in the air.

“He is currently discussing peace with the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes. They have grudges, but no one wants the war to continue except a few of the Fire Nation generals. Though I daresay they won’t cause trouble just yet. Not so soon after Azulon killed Bujing, anyway.” Lao smiled again and continued to answer questions about the goings on of the world.

Shun praised every Spirit he could name and suggested a feast in honor of Iroh’s coronation. Word spread from the two villages outward and soon the whole countryside was alive with festivity.

Arriving in Caldera was terrifying, until they noticed the faces of the crowd. There was a joy in the air that was contagious. Mother asked the nearest people if something had happened recently. They were told in no uncertain terms that Uncle had been crowned Fire Lord. Grandfather had died in the night before Uncle had even returned home.

Hope filled Azula’s chest. She exchanged looks with Mother and they hurried to the palace (not running but walking faster than was strictly proper for nobility). The captain followed at an acceptable distance, his crew dispersed through the city.

Azula burst through the palace doors and stopped in her tracks.

Mother pulled up short too. She looked around and asked, “Did they finally open the windows?” Azula saw that she was right. Light flooded the rooms and it felt alive. Warm and welcoming, like Uncle.

“Welcome home!” The familiar faces of maids, many who had helped them escape, smiled at them and lead them deeper into the palace. The leader and Mother discussed the events that had unfolded since their departure. Azula wasn’t really listening, she was focused on looking around and trying not to rush ahead, looking for the face she really wanted to see.

Then they turned a corner and a voice Azula hadn’t dared hope she’d actually hear again called out, “Mother! Azula!”

Her heart in her throat, she spotted him and ran full speed, dodging maids. She tackled him into the floor and Mother, laughing and crying in equal measure, joined them. Zuko squeezed them back and cried into Azula’s hair.

“You’re such a crybaby, Zuzu,” she chided.

“You’re crying too!” he retorted.

Mother wiped both their faces and her own. “I’m so happy to see you,” she told him, her voice breaking a little. She smoothed down their hair and looked at both of them. “Thank you both, for being so brave.”

Three weeks later, the war was officially over, and soldiers started returning home. It would take years to heal the scars and right the wrongs, but for now, joy overcame sorrow, and the world breathed a sigh of relief.


	9. Epilogue

In the wake of just over 95 years of war, Fire Lord Iroh worked tirelessly to amend his nation’s faults and, in spite of many assassination attempts, reigned for many years and kept peace with the other nations.

Shun and Miyuki spent the remainder of their lives together, travelling the Earth Kingdom and providing medical care to the many wounded soldiers and civilians. Shun took on several apprentices from each nation and taught them all he had learned.

Azula kept her promise to Mili even before they were allowed to visit, writing letters to her (which were read to her by a neighbor until she learned to read) and eventually confessing that she was, in fact, Fire Nation royalty. Eventually, she took Zuko on a trip and visited her friends. The siblings travelled all over the world (always with a worried and harried escort).

Zuko and Azula swapped stories one day and Zuko mentioned, off hand, how Zhao had treated him. (Inexplicably, the naval captain was found stabbed the following morning. He would not tell anyone who had attacked him.)

Five years after the war ended, a pair of siblings from the Southern Water Tribe stumbled across a boy in an iceberg. After learning the boy was the long-lost Avatar, they travelled the world so he could learn the other bending styles (escorted/baby-sat by an exhausted man named Bato, since their father had a village to run).

The cabbage merchant’s suffering at the hands of children continued until Avatar Aang mastered all four elements. Some say he never financially recovered, but others insist he ended up rich and settled in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, I may come back to flesh out Azula's adventures with Zuko, but it is not this day.  
> Love you all. Toodles!

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my mind for a while. Let me know if you find typos, discrepancies, etc. so I can fix them!


End file.
